Forever and Always
by tensionandthrill
Summary: Their plan had been very simple: stay together for the rest of their lives. What happens when one tragic event threatens to cut their time short?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I do not own Glee. Lord, the fun I would have if I did.**

**A/N:** Special thanks to my always encouraging, supportive, caring, amazing fic consultant **keeponsmilingg**. Love you!

This fic has been brewing since Dec/Jan. I finally decided to start posting tonight. It was an idea that wouldn't leave me alone. I'm really nervous about finally putting it out there, but hopefully y'all will like it and want to see more? Let me know! **Review!**

Also...I'll just apologize now. I'm so very sorry, okay?

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><p>Mercedes stared at her reflection in the mirror, tears building in her eyes—ready to yield to the giddiness that threatened to consume her entire body. Her breath came out in excited hitches, her face heating up, as the tears spilled onto her face. She made a fist around the object in her hand, pumping it in the air as she literally jumped for joy. She'd been waiting for this to happen—she'd prayed for it—and now that it had, her delight had her teetering on the edge of near hysteria. She was pregnant. She and Sam were going to have a baby.<p>

She managed to calm herself enough to bring the pregnancy test back to her line of sight—opening her hand, and holding the device gingerly as she stared at the little plus sign in awe and disbelief.

She recalled the last time she'd been in this situation just seven months ago. She'd been late on her period, unusually tired and had experienced feelings of nausea. Her biology classes at school and witnessing the beginning of Tina's pregnancy the year before convinced her she must have had a little bundle of joy on the way.

When she'd broached the subject with Sam, she was nervous beyond belief. They'd just graduated from college a few months prior. They'd both just started new demanding jobs. They had _just_ decided—after a long fought battle by Sam—to move in to a new house together. The timing couldn't have been worse.

Still, Sam had been ecstatic at the prospect of a son or daughter with a cute button nose and a bright smile like their mom—and maybe a goofy sense of humor and a love for all things sci-fi like him. He'd immediately rushed out of the house, headed to the local pharmacy, and bought every pregnancy test he could get his hands on. He'd ushered her into the bathroom with a large glass of water —dumping all the tests he bought on the counter. Then, he'd turned on the faucet and sat on the edge of tub, telling her to 'go ahead and do the peeing thing', with a flick of his hand for emphasis.

Mercedes remembered the bitter disappointment they'd both felt when the tests, _all of them_, came up negative. She'd tried to rationalize that it was all for the best—that they weren't ready to be parents just then—but, she couldn't deny how hurt she felt days later when she _did_ start her period.

Sam had held her, whispering soothing consolations into her ear, and humming quietly to help her calm down as she cried. Whenever she got upset like this, she could always rely on the security she felt as she lay in his arms and the sound of his voice to relax her.

His goofiness worked, too.

She'd burst into a fit of giggles minutes later when he looked at her with a positively mischievous smirk and told her she didn't need to cry because he'd put absolutely a hundred and ten percent effort into knocking her up. He'd give her all the babies she wanted and they could start trying _immediately_.

She'd pushed him away playfully then, and he'd settled for a kissing and cuddling session, but as soon as her cycle was over, he'd kept true to his word, like he always did.

Seven months later, here she was in a similar situation. Only this time, Sam was on a work trip out of town and wouldn't be back until later. She'd run out to the pharmacy and bought the pregnancy test, and now she had confirmation that a tiny little person that she and Sam would love to death was growing inside of her.

She cautiously laid the test down on the bathroom counter, washing her hands and face before heading back into the bedroom she shared with Sam. He was coming home tonight and she had to make it special when she told him. It was a big fucking deal and she wanted to celebrate.

Grabbing her keys she ran out to PartyCity to put her plan into action. She bought two dozen balloons—pink and blue—and set them all up around the dining room when she got home. Next she got started on baking him a white chocolate cake—his favorite.

The rest of her day was dedicated to preparing an amazing meal for her and Sam to share. _They were going to be parents!_ She had to hold back her excitement as she moved around the kitchen. The urge to flail was strong, but the last thing she needed was to cause a kitchen fire because of random emotional twirling. She also had to keep the tears at bay. A good meal was supposed to include love, not tears.

As she took the last of the meal out of the oven and brought it into the dining room, she checked the time on the stove.

**8:15pm**. Sam would be home any minute. He'd actually projected for 8 and he hadn't called to say he'd be late so he should be really getting close.

She tamped down her excitement as she decorated the cake with a message for Sam, hoping she'd finish before he walked in the door. 'Welcome Home, Daddy!' the cake read and Mercedes couldn't wait to see his reaction when he saw it. She looked on proudly at all of her work before she took a seat at the table and waited.

**8:25pm. **Any minute now, she'd hear his truck in the driveway. She sat at the table vibrating with tension and thrill, aching to hear the rumble of his truck outside, his key in the lock, and finally, his voice calling to her to tell her he was home.

He'd only been gone for a few days but she missed him when he went away like this for work. He was a sports therapist for Saint John University's basketball team and would often travel with the team for away games. The trips were never too long, but she felt his absence just the same. She missed his bright eyes, his crooked smile, his kisses, his voice, his smell, his touch, his dorky impressions, and his _everything_.

Sam had gotten his job with Saint John's University first and begged her to come to him in New York. She'd been hesitant, but he hadn't given up. When she got an interview with the Performing Arts department at NYU as a vocal trainer a few months later, she had no choice but to try for it. It would pay really well and she knew she'd enjoy the work. Plus, she'd be in the perfect position to continue pushing forward with her own dreams. He was elated when she got the job and finally agreed to go to him.

Living in New York definitely meant they saw their families less than they would like, but it was only a short plane ride away from Ohio and Kentucky. Plus, it meant they got to see Mike and Tina on a regular basis since the couple had also relocated there to pursue their dreams and start their family. They'd gotten off to a good start in their new city and they loved the life they'd created for themselves there. It was about to get even better in a matter of months!

**8:35pm.** _Where was he?_ Mercedes tried to reason away the uneasy feeling niggling at her. She was being ridiculous. _Could her baby hormones be affecting her already?_ She put a reminder into her cell phone to make an appointment with an OBGYN in the morning. She wanted to make sure everything with this pregnancy went just perfectly.

Tina and Mike had their first child the year before; a boy named Tyler. She made a note to contact Tina and get the name of her doctor. It was going to be so exciting. She hoped she had a little boy that would be best friends with their little boy—just like Sam was best friends with Mike. Tina was going to freak out!

Mercedes went through all of the adorable scenarios in her head while she sat waiting—their first day of school, their first school play, birthday parties, and joint family outings. Tina and Mercedes had always done everything together since high school. This was going to be no different. She couldn't wait to tell Sam and then run off to tell Tina and Mike.

Her thoughts shifted and focused on the baby boy she hoped she was having; what he would possibly look like. He'd have big green eyes like his dad, and curly brown hair. He'd have the cutest plumpest lips and chubby cheeks and skin the color of caramel. She imagined his smile, his first steps, his laugh, and his cry. She imagined looking into his eyes and holding his tiny hand for the first time, barely keeping her tears at bay.

She imagined him falling asleep on his father's chest—and, _dammit_, _where was Sam?_ She glanced at the time on her phone.

**8:45pm. **Sam still hadn't called and the uneasiness she'd been trying to push away started getting stronger. Sam was never this late without calling. He would always say it was the two of them against this big city, and in this house, and they had to look out for one another. He was always really considerate when it came to things like this. Something had to be wrong. She was sure he would have called.

She called his cell phone but it went straight to voicemail. Maybe _he'd been delayed and his cell phone had died_, she reasoned, trying to keep calm. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation.

When she called the assistant he always travelled with, however, the uneasiness turned to full on panic. She could feel her heart squeezing in her chest as his assistant explained that the team bus had dropped them off an hour and a half ago and Sam should actually have been _early_ getting home. Mercedes felt sick as she thanked him and hung up the phone.

She walked to the window—hand around her throat trying to stop the sick feeling from rising. She felt queasy, like she might throw up. She tried his cell phone again, stomping her foot in frustration when it went to voicemail again.

"_Dammit, Sam! Where are you?_" she said out loud, still looking out the window, willing his truck to come up the street. She started counting down in five second increments, convincing herself his truck would pull up when she got to one every time.

It never did.

When the house line rang, she sighed in relief, rushing to go pick it up. "Sam! Where the hell—"

The voice that interrupted her on the other end wasn't Sam. It was a woman and Mercedes' heart sunk again hearing her say, "Ms. Jones?"

"Y-yes," she answered tentatively.

"This is Maureen Cashen calling from Northshore LIJ Hospital," the woman said.

Mercedes squeaked out a weak, "Mhm," dreading the next words out of this woman's mouth.

"Ms. Jones, we're calling in regards to Samuel Evans. You're listed as the emergency medical contact in his file. Unfortunately, Sam was involved in a serious car accident tonight," Maureen said.

Mercedes could literally feel her world starting to crumble. She had to keep it together, though. So she ignored the overwhelming tightness in her chest and swallowed back the sobs that threatened to tear through her.

"Oh God," Mercedes squeaked out feebly, already heading to her car—the decorations, the cake, and the special meal she'd spent the afternoon cooking forgotten in the dining room.

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><p>Do you hate me? Do you want to see more of this? Be sure to let me know! <strong>Review, because they make my life!<strong> Unless you're cursing me right now...


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.**

**A/N**: This one is a bit of a break from the darkness. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think. **Review!**

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><p>It was a chilly night out but Mercedes didn't even bother looking for a coat. Sam would have given her a disapproving look over that. <em>Sam<em>. Her heart squeezed in her chest. She couldn't really feel anything. "Is he alright?" She asked the question and her breath hitched as she waited for her answer. _Please, God, let him be alright._

"The injuries he sustained were pretty severe; the doctors are in with him now. It'd really be best if you could come in and speak to them in person. How soon would you be able—"

"I'm already on my way," Mercedes said to the woman, failing to hold back a sob. Her breathing was shaky and her face heated up with the effort of holding back her tears. Her eyes stung, but she couldn't let herself fall apart right now. She had to get to Sam first. She had to see him.

After getting details about where to go once she got there from Maureen, Mercedes drove on to the hospital.

Her mind was focused on a memory that had only happened the month prior.

_They'd been in the middle of Christmas celebrations with their families. They always alternated. They'd spend Christmas Eve with either the Jones clan in Lima or with the Evans clan in Kentucky. Then, after gift opening and breakfast on Christmas morning, they'd rent a car and drive to Kentucky or Lima and spend Christmas day and Boxing Day with the other family. It'd become a thing. Sam would always make a road mix of his and Mercedes' favorite songs on his iPod and they'd sing along loudly, goofing off the whole way there. _

_This Christmas Eve they were with the Jones clan, with the exception of Mercedes' older brother, who was celebrating with his wife's family in California. Mercedes hadn't thought much of it when Sam's family showed up, thinking they'd just missed him and really wanted to be with him on Christmas morning. _The more, the merrier_, she thought. _

_She enjoyed getting to spend time with his brother and sister. She'd always had a bond with them that started since she'd first started dating Sam. The twins were teenagers now, in their last year of middle school, and it was crazy to see how much they'd grown. _

_Stevie—who now requested to be called Steven in public—was getting to look more and more like his brother with every passing day. He and Sam shared nearly all the same features—from their green eyes right down to their big red lips. It didn't stop there, either. Steven simply idolized his older brother, so Sam's character was something he respected and tried to emulate. Mercedes couldn't think of a better example._

_Stacey was tall and thin, with a head full of long blonde hair. She had a boisterous attitude about her and she had certainly inherited the Evans charm. Mercedes laughed every time one of the Evans men threatened to keep her locked in a room until she was 30. She had started calling Stacey 'Rapunzel' as a joke, but Stacey embraced it, and the nickname had kind of stuck and spread through the family. _

_She was sandwiched between the two of them that night—Steven and Rapunzel—as they talked excitedly to her about anything and everything. She could barely keep up with their stories. They were doing that twin thing, finishing each other's sentences, and Mercedes was amused as she looked between the excited pair._

_Sam's mother walked out of kitchen where she'd been cleaning up and trading gossip with Mercedes' mother. She gestured with her hand to Mercedes as she passed, indicating she thought the twins were blabbermouths. Mercedes chuckled softly as the kids briefly halted their excited chatter to narrow their eyes at their mother, and then promptly continued their stories._

_Mercedes' mom came out of the kitchen next with eggnog for everyone, except her father and Sam's, who were huddled in front of the television together—beers in hand—discussing the various points of the football game they were watching._

_Mercedes just couldn't get over how natural and comfortable the scene before her was. They really were just like one big family. It made her smile._

_Her eyes settled on Sam who kept shooting her intense looks from his seat across the room. She swore once she saw him tear up, but with the kids talking as excitedly as they were—practically sitting in her lap and demanding her attention—she couldn't get up and go to him. _

_She tried to shoot him a questioning look but he'd looked away and, when he looked back, his face was normal again and he shot her a charming grin, so she let it go._

_Later, it was time for everyone to open up their one midnight gift. Everyone had to pick one gift under the tree addressed to them. That one they would get to open. The rest would need to wait until later that morning._

_Stevie chose the one Mercedes and Sam had gotten him and promptly flipped out over the new iPod Touch and iTunes gift card—thanking them profusely. _

_Stacey had opted for her gift from her parents instead, thanking them for the Harry Potter DVD set. She was already planning a marathon with Stevie, Sam, and Mercedes before they all had to head back home._

_Sam had laughed fondly at set of beanies Mercedes' mom had knitted for him, thanking her generously. She must have spent so long working on them, there were so many. He took off the one he'd been wearing and replaced it with one of the ones she'd knitted, making her smile proudly._

_Sam's dad had fawned over the new tool box Mercedes had gotten him. Mercedes shot Sam a conciliatory smile. She hadn't believed him when he'd said his dad would love it. After all, who wanted a tool box for Christmas? Here Mr. Evans was, however, grinning like mad as he examined each piece. Mercedes was convinced he was crazy, but she was pleased he was pleased._

_Finally, it was time for Mercedes to open her gift. She was reaching for the one Stevie got her when Sam stopped her. "Actually, you should open this one," Sam said, handing her a small box wrapped in silver paper with a purple bow._

_Mercedes took in his nervous face—his eyes were wide, his cheeks tinted red, and he breathed through his mouth as he watched her—and her heart skipped a beat. _

"_Okay," she said quietly, taking it from him with shaking fingers. As she untied the bow, she noticed how quiet the room had gotten. Everyone had stopped talking and fiddling with their gifts—all eyes focused solely on her and Sam._

_She knew what was happening, but she still gasped when she peeled back the paper and saw the Tiffany-blue box peeking out. Her breathing was shaky as she opened the ring box to find a beautiful Tiffany Legacy diamond ring. She'd been eyeing the exact one since high school. How did he…?—Tina._

_Tears were already stinging her eyes as she looked up to where Sam had been. _

_Her tears spilled over when she found that spot empty. He was in front of her now, down on one knee with both of their families looking on. Now it made perfect sense why his family had suddenly popped up—the sneaks. They'd all known, and no one had let on._

"_Sam—I," she croaked, but found she couldn't continue. Her throat was too tight with emotion. He moved a bit closer to her, reaching for one of her hands, while Mercedes looked at him— completely overwhelmed._

"_Mercedes," Sam began and she took a deep breath. Whatever he was about to say, she hoped she kept breathing through it. She felt like she was about to pass out. _

"_These last six years, baby, they've been everything," he said, using one of his hands to cup her face. His thumb wiped the tears slipping from her eyes. _

"_I didn't know that day I said yes to prom would change my life. It was the best decision I ever made—well, that, and coming back for you senior year." Somewhere in the room, one of the mothers made a strangled sound and Mercedes would have laughed had she not been so engrossed in Sam and his words at the moment._

"_You were such a surprise, but you've been everything I could ever want and need since then. I started falling in love with you that night and I haven't stopped—and I never will," Sam continued—his voice thick with emotion._

"_You've been with me through the most difficult periods of my life—when I had not a damn thing to offer you but myself and my love—and you accepted me and loved me like that was worth everything, like I was enough."_

_Mercedes tried to speak, tried to assure him that he was enough and always would be, but all that came out were more sobs. On top of the havoc he was wreaking on her heart, he dared to smile then—a watery one, as his eyes were swimming with unshed tears of his own. Well, good. At least one of them was keeping their composure._

"_I love you so much—with everything I have. I want you forever. I know there is never going to be anyone else for me—and if you think there's going to be anyone else for you," he continued, pulling a face, and Mercedes laughed through her tears at his antics. "Well then, you better prepare for me to stalk your whole life. I did it once. I'll do it again," he warned. His tone was joking, but Mercedes knew he was completely serious on some level._

_She heard their families around them chuckling, and shook her head. Even in this, he was still Sam. _

"_Baby, will you marry me?" The question was finally out and it turned into a messy blur from there. Mercedes forgot about there being anyone else in the room. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with everything she had. Sam didn't hold back either, kissing her passionately and pressing himself closer to her._

_Only when the whimpering and soft moaning started did the parents speak up to pull them apart. They pulled apart—eyes completely glazed over—and turned to regard their families. They found Sam's mom with the twins on either side of her, her hands covering their eyes. The other adults in the room just snickered. Mercedes blushed and Sam chuckled returning his attention to her. "Was that a yes?"_

"_Of course! Yes, baby, I'll marry you" Mercedes said and Sam retrieved the ring box from her, sliding the ring onto her finger with a grin._

"_This is just the beginning. I love you so much," he told her when he hugged her after. _

"_I love you," she whispered against his lips and then kissed him much like before, making their parents groan, while Stevie and Stacey giggled. They pulled apart smiling sheepishly at the group. Their family took this as their opportunity to see the ring and congratulate the newly engaged couple. _

_The original plan was for the Evans parents to share Mercedes' brother's bed, while an airbed would be prepared for Stevie and Stacey to sleep on. Mercedes and Sam __**very graciously**__ insisted that just wouldn't do. The kids should take her room and they would find a hotel. Not five minutes later, they were practically running out of the door, promising to be back in the morning. Everyone knew why—and everyone mutually agreed not to mention it._

Mercedes was abruptly pulled out of the memory when a car honked behind her. She gasped and looked up, realizing she'd been stopped in front of a light that had turned green who knows how long ago.

"Shit," she cursed, and moved the car forward, racing toward the hospital.

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><p>I gave you a nice flashback, alright? Don't hurt me! Lol.<p>

**Did you like it? Leave me a review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

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><p>Mercedes parked her car and already had the door open before she'd even turned off the engine. She jogged briskly to the emergency room entrance, barely noticing anything around her as she made her way to the front desk. She nervously gave the receptionist there her name and Sam's like Maureen had told her to and waited every achingly long moment as the woman looked up the file. Every extra second felt like a lifetime to Mercedes.<p>

Finally, the woman turned to face her, smiling politely before enlisting one of the orderlies standing nearby to guide Mercedes through the hospital and into the OR unit where Sam was being kept.

Mercedes felt as if the walls of the hospital were a never-ending maze that was rapidly closing in on her. Her chest felt tight as she blankly navigated her way behind the orderly. There was no conversation between them, but the trip was far from silent as Mercedes took in the various noises in the hospital. Machines were beeping; people were talking, crying, and groaning. Phones were ringing. People were walking in every direction. It was all a blur to her. All she could think about was finally getting to Sam.

She saw patients in their rooms as she passed and wondered what state she'd find Sam in. The knot in her chest seemed to get tighter at the thought. Her mind went through every possible terrifying scenario. Would they even allow her to see him?

A few minutes later, she was walking into the waiting room for the OR unit. The orderly lead her to the service desk there, where a woman was carrying on a conversation with two police men and a doctor. The orderly gave them her name and the woman—Mercedes assumed this was Maureen—shot her a look that made Mercedes' heart squeeze in her chest. She was barely breathing by the time the woman started speaking, introducing her to the doctor and the officers.

Mercedes nodded politely at all of them, but all she was interested in hearing about was Sam. She jumped straight into what she wanted to know, asking, "Is Sam going to be alright? What happened to him?"

"He's in surgery right now. The impact was pretty severe and caused a lot of internal damage. He's lost a lot of blood," the doctor began.

Mercedes' knees felt wobbly as she listened and she struggled to keep her composure. She could barely focus as he spoke, catching only bits and pieces, as her breath came out in shaky pants.

The doctor went on—with the policemen jumping in to provide any missing information-using words that sounded really painful and serious. Each one was like a knife to Mercedes' heart.

"He was blindsided by a car that ran a red light…driver's side impact…totaled the car…extraction from the vehicle…sustained serious injuries…broken bones in the left arm and leg…fractured ribs…collapsed lung…punctured internal organs…unconscious at the scene."

Mercedes wasn't aware she'd completely fallen apart until she was being lead to a chair and Maureen was asking if there was anyone they could call.

Not twenty minutes later she was losing it in Tina's arms, sobs wracking through her body. She felt like she couldn't breathe, and they wouldn't let her see Sam yet. He still wasn't out of surgery—there was a lot of damage to attend to—and they didn't know when, or if, they'd be able to move him to the ICU where she'd be able to sit with him.

She could feel Tina rubbing her back and tried to take comfort in the gesture but it was no use. She let her thoughts drift back to how the tears had been different just hours ago. The future had seemed wide open and beautiful and now she'd never been so scared of the passing minutes in her life. She wished they would go in reverse so she could stop Sam from ever going on that trip. She'd hold him forever and never let him leave her again.

The sobbing got worse and Tina tried hard to comfort her, squeezing her tightly in a hug and whispering soothing words, but it wasn't working. The one person who could make it better, who'd always made it better, couldn't be there for her now. He might never be there ever again. Mercedes couldn't handle the thought of that.

This was not how it was supposed to go. They were going to get married and have a baby. They were supposed to have forever. He wasn't supposed to be in there fighting for his next breath, and she wasn't supposed to be out here feeling like her world was ending.

She needed him—especially now. She'd _always_ need him. He couldn't just leave her halfway. They had barely just begun.

When she'd finally exhausted this bout of tears, Mercedes tiredly lifted her head off of Tina's shoulder. She looked toward the waiting room entrance, hoping to see Sam's doctor returning with an update. He didn't, but she saw Mike walking in, sliding his cell phone into his pocket before he took a seat on the other side of her. He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face, before offering her a firm squeeze on her shoulder.

"I called your parents," he informed her, "and Sam's. They're all on their way with the kids." Mercedes felt another lump form in her throat and stifled it with a deep breath. Every time she thought she was fresh out of tears, there seemed to be more just waiting to be shed.

The Evans clan was a tight knit family. They loved each other fiercely and protectively. Sam's family would fall apart over this—every single one of them. They'd been through so much already and, just when things were finally settling—when normalcy seemed within reach—life handed them this. It really wasn't fair and she knew every one of them would be crushed, even as they tried to remain optimistic.

She was glad Mike had called because she didn't know if she would have made it through that conversation.

The next several hours seemed like a blur to Mercedes. She'd been in just about every position a person could be in on those uncomfortable hospital chairs. Considering that a lot of people had some of the worst nights of their lives here, couldn't someone have thought to at least make the chairs comfortable? Sam's doctor had been back but couldn't really offer any new information as Sam still wasn't out of surgery. It was still touch and go, they were still trying to fix the damage, but he was still holding on which was a good thing.

_Her poor baby_, Mercedes thought. _Her goofy, adorable, dorky baby. He was the sweetest man in the world. Why was this happening to him? He must feel so scared and alone right now._

Then she was crying again and Mike tried his hand this time at providing comfort, extending an arm over her shoulder and pulling her into his side. Tina sat at her back in another row of chairs. She let her chin rest on Mercedes' shoulder and rubbed her hand up and down Mercedes' arm.

It wasn't Sam, but it helped Mercedes keep the terror and emptiness from swallowing her up whole.

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><p><strong>Leave me your thoughts. Review!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

**A/N:** Here is the update. There's still a lot more to come, I hope y'all like this and stick with me! Let me know. Leave me a review! :)

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><p>It was nearly 2am by the time her parents came rushing into the room. Her mom hurried over and swept her up into a fierce hug. She could feel her father join their embrace, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Mercedes hadn't slept a wink and, by this time, she felt kind of numb. She gratefully hugged her parents, thanking them for being there, but said little. She was glad when Tina pulled them away to update them on the situation.<p>

She huddled back in to Mike's side, laying her head on his shoulder—allowing herself to withdraw into her thoughts. This whole situation was only temporary. It had to be because she couldn't lose him, especially now—not with this baby on the way, not with their wedding scheduled for next year, not with their entire lives ahead of them. He'd promised her this was just the beginning, and Sam never broke his promises.

She refused to entertain the darkest thoughts that were taking root in the back of her mind, choosing instead to play through happy moments she'd shared with Sam instead.

_Their first kiss after nationals in New York, Mercedes had been upset over the loss. She ran out of the hotel room—where everyone had finally managed to quiet down a hysterical Santana—and plopped herself on the carpet in the hallway dejectedly. She hadn't been surprised when Sam followed her out. They'd been spending a lot of time together these days. He was actually becoming a really good friend. _

_When he'd asked her what was wrong, she'd told him that for once she'd just wanted to feel like more than a Lima loser. Even if she hadn't been the feature, at least she was part of something that was good and special. It would hurt like hell to return to Lima with nothing to show for their hard work—just as empty as they'd shown up._

_Sam had gotten carried away with his emotions and blurted out that she was more special and good than anyone he'd ever met. He told her she was a star and Mr. Schuester was an idiot for not seeing that—they'd probably have won if she'd been front and center. _

_He told her she was beautiful and amazingly talented, and he would always thank his lucky stars he'd said yes to prom, because he loved spending time with her… and he really liked her. _

_She'd looked at him with wide eyes, taken aback at his words and watched him blush furiously at his own flurry of admissions. He hadn't taken it back, however. All thoughts of the competition took a back seat as Mercedes tried to process this information. Sam Evans liked her. He __**really**__ liked her. _

_She would have been lying if she said she hadn't entertained the same thoughts about him, but she never in a million years thought he saw her that way. She'd been lulled once before, making up an entire relationship in her head. So when Sam had started hanging out with her and being nice to her, she took it as just that—he was just a nice guy._

_At her stunned silence, Sam, still blushing, repeated that he liked her—that he loved being her friend—but he wanted more than that. Then he had kissed her, and she had let him. He'd cradled her face almost reverently, like he cherished her and it'd made her feel special. _

_That night, she sat next to him, surrounded by the other glee clubbers—with the exception of Rachel and Finn who thought it best to stay away from Santana. The group was sitting on the balcony in the boys' hotel room, sprawled out on the chairs there. Brittany, Sam, and Mercedes took up the futon out there—the three of them sharing a blanket to ward off the cool night air. Mercedes was sitting between Brittany and Sam. No one seemed to take notice of her and Sam's closeness, attributing it to the cool breeze. _

_Sam used the blanket's cover to entwine their hands and play with her fingers. Mercedes would shoot him shy smiles every now and again when the others were too wrapped up in their conversations to pay attention. He'd always smile back and squeeze her hand. As she'd ducked her head to hide her smile for the twentieth time that night, she was sure she'd firmly crossed the line into silly girl with a crush, but she couldn't bring herself to care._

_This turn in events made her smile, and after the last few nights she'd had, she welcomed the giddy feeling she was currently experiencing. She hadn't been looking for Sam and yet here he was. Who knew what else could be on the horizon? She might not have gotten her trophy but she and Sam were at the beginning of something special. _

_Suddenly the prospect of returning to Lima wasn't so depressing. She had a new outlook. There was one more year to get things right and the possibilities were endless._

Mike shifted against her bringing her back to the present. She lifted her eyes to look up at him. His face looked tired and he sat with his elbow resting on the arm rest. His fist was balled up and rested against his mouth, eyes red from holding back tears. His expression was one of uncertainty and fear. Mercedes squeezed his hand and he looked down at her with a small smile. No words were necessary to communicate what they were feeling. They both understood each other all too well.

Mercedes closed her eyes again and let herself drift off into another memory.

_She'd just moved in with Sam into their house in New York the month before. In Ohio, she drove everywhere. This meant she was a lot less exposed to the winter cold than she was in New York where she walked most everywhere she went. _

_Sam had warned her about trying to be stylish over sensible with her winter coat and she had balked at his concern. She hated those ugly puffy jackets or the big heavy coats everyone else wore and he couldn't convince her to wear one. _

_Now, however, she was wishing she had listened as she was battling one of the worst colds she'd ever gotten. She groaned when she heard his chipper voice as he swung the door open. She'd just woken up from a nap a few minutes before._

"_Baby," he called out in a cheerful singsong. "I have food and medicine."_

_Mercedes let out another muffled groan from beneath the comforter but didn't move. She heard Sam chuckle as he placed the tray he'd carried in on her nightstand. She watched him squat down in front of her to get a good look at her face. He was wearing a white long sleeve shirt that clung to his torso in all the right places and his grey sweat pants sat low on his hips. Mercedes cursed being sick for the millionth time that day. She'd have been all over that in different circumstances._

"_Are you in there?" he asked, playfully patting the top of her head._

_Her entire body was covered with the comforter. Only her eyes peeked out to regard him—the look in them reflected just how miserable she was feeling. _

_Sam pulled back the sheet from her face and poked out his bottom lip in a mock pout, brushing her bangs off her forehead._

"_It's almost 5. You were asleep a while. How are you feeling?" he asked her softly, placing the palm of his hand against her forehead._

"_I feel like death," Mercedes answered dryly, closing her eyes as his thumb brushed her cheek tenderly. The stifled quality of her voice indicated just how stuffy her nose was and hearing it made her pout. She felt Sam place a gentle kiss on her forehead._

"_Don't," she protested. "I'm gross and you'll get sick, too." _

_She couldn't have that. As soon as she'd woken up earlier that day with aches and pains everywhere, a stuffy nose, a cough, and a fever, Mercedes had pretty much decided she was done for and surrendered to her illness. Sam, on the other hand, had decided they were going to kick this cold's ass and had appointed himself her caretaker. _

_Sam had been doing a splendid job, making sure she was as comfortable as possible. He made her food, got her medicine, and did whatever she needed to help her feel less miserable. _

_Whatever she'd done to deserve him, she hoped she kept doing it. If this was how he took care of the kids on the basketball team when they got injured, they were in good hands._

"_You don't have a fever anymore, so something's working," he said softly. She'd opened her eyes to find him smiling encouragingly at her._

_Mercedes would have smiled back if everything didn't hurt. As is, she only whimpered at him, making him chuckle again._

"_Look at you. Poor baby. Come on. Sit up," he said pulling the comforter back further. He only rubbed her back as she moaned in protest. _

_Mercedes burrowed her face into her pillow. "Can't." She was wearing her footie pajamas but she instantly missed the cozy feeling the comforter had provided._

"_Yeah, you can," Sam replied. "You gotta eat so you can take your medicine. This food is good, too. You'll be back to whipping vocal chords into shape in no time."_

_Mercedes reluctantly sat up, sighing at the dizziness she felt. Sam slipped onto the bed behind her, his legs on either side of her. He rubbed her shoulders soothingly with both hands and placed a gentle kiss on her neck. Mercedes leaned back into him as he brought the bowl of soup he'd made before her._

"_It's chicken noodle," he told her when she peered into the bowl questioningly. "This is the special Evans family recipe, though. I called my mom and everything. She says hello and she hopes you feel better soon, by the way." He lifted a spoonful toward her mouth and she didn't fight him, opening her mouth to accept the food. It'd proven futile before the few times she'd told him she could feed herself earlier that day._

_Just like he'd promised, the food was good. The warm broth immediately soothed her scratchy throat and its slight spiciness instantly started to relieve the pressure of her stuffy nose. _

_It'd also been a while since her last meal so her hunger pangs began to dissipate as well as he fed her more and more of the soup. He went at her pace, waiting patiently as she chewed and prepared herself for the next mouthful of food. When she'd finished, he carefully put the bowl back._

_He offered her a bottle of Vitamin Water, her favorite kind, and waited as she took her medication before settling everything back onto the tray._

_He wrapped his arms around her middle, resting his face in the crook of her neck._

"_Better?" he asked quietly as he kissed her neck. He tightened his arms around her._

_She nodded and said, "Yeah. Thank you."_

"_Was the food good? I gotta let my mom know how it turned out." He kissed her neck again, with a bit more pressure this time. Mercedes moaned softly and lifted her left hand to cup the back of his head, letting her fingers play with his hair._

"_It was. My nose isn't so stuffy anymore. It made my headache go away." Sam kissed her jaw this time, sliding his left hand up the arm that was cupping his head._

_It felt good, but Mercedes tried to shift away from him._

"_Baby, stop kissing me. I'm gonna get you sick," Mercedes warned._

"_Then you can be __**my**__ nurse," Sam said playfully, continuing his efforts._

"_You say that now. You'll be singing a different tune when there's snot clogging up __**your**__ nose," Mercedes warned._

_Sam pulled away abruptly, his mood effectively ruined. It was something about snot that just stopped any and all tingling. Mercedes laughed at the face he made when she turned her head to look at him. He scrunched his nose at her playfully before laughing along with her._

_She returned her head to his shoulder, settling against him again. Sam's arms wrapped around her middle and he leaned against the headboard bringing her with him. He rested his chin on her left shoulder and Mercedes rubbed her hands up and down his forearms._

_Neither of them spoke for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence between them. _

"_Thank you for taking care of me, baby," Mercedes said quietly. "You always do."_

"_And I always will," Sam promised with another kiss, this time to her cheek. Mercedes smiled, not chastising him this time._

_Two days later, when Sam had finally nursed her back to health, he'd surprised her with a "You're All Better" gift. That's what he'd called it when she questioned the occasion. She'd opened the box to find a brand new black wool Burberry winter coat, complete with a hat, gloves, and scarf._

"_I asked Kurt to buy them," he admitted sheepishly. "He assured me they were both sensible and stylish. So, you'll keep looking hot and you won't get sick. Win/win."_

_She'd rewarded him with all the kisses and more. Her man was just too sweet._

A sudden commotion at the waiting room door brought Mercedes back this time, abruptly jerking her out of the sweet memory. Her nerves were already shot from the night's events and it didn't take much for her heart rate to spike—which it did as she snapped her head from its resting place on Mike's shoulder and looked toward the door just in time to see Sam's family spilling through it.

She figured she must have fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion—a quick scan of the room revealed that her parents were back. They sat across from her and Tina had taken up a seat next to Mike. They held on to each other's hands tightly as the Evans family drew closer—Sam's mother leading the charge.

Mercedes had thought she was fresh out of tears, but she discovered she was entirely wrong as more sprang to her eyes at the sight of them, and threatened to spill over. Sam's mother was clearly passed the point of remaining calm if her worry-worn face and red-rimmed eyes were any indication. It was a jarring sight for Mercedes, who was used to the near-permanent warm eyes and kind smile the woman usually wore.

In an instant Mercedes was standing to greet them, but no words came out despite her efforts to speak and she found herself cradled tightly in the woman's embrace.

"Honey, has there been any change since Mike called?" Sam's mom asked, pulling back to look at Mercedes. Both of her hands cupped Mercedes' cheeks as she searched Mercedes' face for answers. Mercedes shook her head and desperately tried to get a handle on her tears. She took a few calming breaths, determined to get her emotions in check.

Mercedes prided herself on her drive and her strength. She knew she had the tenacity and resilience to deal with tough situations and fight her own battles. For a while, she'd wielded these qualities like armor, building the fierce diva shell she presented to the world.

Sam had come along like a ninja with his charm, love, and patience—sneaking passed all those guards. Once he'd gotten there, he hadn't tried to take anything away from her, however. He'd simply stood by her and made sure she never had to face her battles alone. Whether it was watching proudly as her star rose, giving her the support and encouragement she needed to go for her dreams, or protecting her from the world when she was at her lowest—he was there.

Mercedes had gotten used to it. However strong she was on her own, she was at her peak when he was at her side. She'd never wanted to think of a time when she wouldn't have him. The very real possibility of it now was making it hard for her to breathe.

She forced herself to push through it, however. Sam's entire family was there, worried about him. The last thing any of them needed was his sobbing mess of a fiancé to deal with.

Sam's mother was still looking at her, tears streaming unchecked down her face. She wrapped Mercedes in another tight hug and the two tried their best to comfort one another.

Mercedes took a deep breath, pulling away, and said, "They've only come back to tell us there's no change. We don't know anything for sure yet. The doctor says he's holding on and that's a good sign, though." Her breath hitched when she'd finished speaking, but she breathed through it and stopped another round of tears from flowing. She wouldn't fall apart. Sam's mother nodded solemnly and wiped at the tears on her face.

Mercedes felt a hand on her arm and pulled back to see Stacey's red-rimmed eyes. The girl looked absolutely terrified and it broke Mercedes' heart even more. The bond between the Evans children, especially after the financial hardships they'd experienced, ran deep. It was almost ridiculous the way Sam's siblings adored him.

Sam, for his part, was just as enamored with them. Rarely a day would go by when he wasn't sharing a story with her about them, smiling proudly like they were his own children. He would get unbelievably animated over anything as little as a good test grade and she'd often heard him on the phone with them in the evenings discussing their school days—giving them advice on any issues that troubled them. It was during these moments that Mercedes had decided Sam would be the best father ever.

Mercedes' heart squeezed as her thoughts moved to that subject. She absently rubbed her hand over her stomach and forcefully focused her attention on Stacey. They didn't exchange any words as Mercedes reached out an arm and brought the girl into her embrace. She didn't try to dole out any empty words of consolation, choosing instead to simply hug Stacey's trembling form tightly to her. One arm rubbed the girl's back soothingly, while the other cradled her head.

It was a little while before the two of them finally let each other go. Mercedes took this opportunity to greet the rest of Sam's family, giving his father and brother the warmest smiles she could muster and accepting their consoling hugs.

Sam's dad spoke words of encouragement directly into Mercedes' ear as he held her, telling her that Sam had always been a fighter, that he was strong, and that he would fight in this, too. Tears sprang to Mercedes' eyes, but again she held them back, determined to remain strong, too. She hoped and prayed against all odds that he was right.

Mercedes knew that she could probably make it without Sam, but she also knew that life without him would never measure up. She'd always feel his absence in the most acute way. She'd always yearn for him and that was just not a life she wanted. She _could_ get by, but she didn't want to have to.

With this little boy or girl on the way, the feeling increased. This baby deserved the amazing father she knew Sam would be and Sam deserved the chance to be there for the child he wanted so badly. It just wouldn't be fair for either of them to miss out on each other—for all of them never to get the chance to be a family.

Like before, Mercedes' hand absently grazed her stomach as her thoughts fell to her child. She forced herself out of her thoughts again and tried to focus on the people in the waiting room. She'd simply have to wait until all of this was over to sit with her thoughts.

Sam's father sat with Mercedes' father, talking quietly about what the doctors had said. Stacey sat next to her father, his arm draped comfortingly around her, and tried to silence her tears in his worn coat.

Mercedes' mom held on to Sam's mother's hand, their heads bowed and eyes closed tightly in prayer. Mercedes had been sending up prayers all night and was glad she had some reinforcements.

She turned to take her position next to Mike again but found herself flanked by Stevie. He reached out and held her hand and she offered him a sad smile. At thirteen, Stevie was almost a carbon copy of his older brother except with floppier, blonder hair.

Mercedes had seen the family photo albums countless times and even Sam himself had trouble sometimes telling the difference between his and Stevie's baby pictures. They had the same green eyes and same big lips. As tall as he was getting, he wouldn't be for long, but Stevie was like a miniature version of his older brother. Sam couldn't have been prouder.

Mercedes' heart sunk in her chest as that thought crossed her mind. Earlier that day, or really last night by this point, she'd been imagining what their baby would look like. She'd imagined a little boy with Sam's green eyes, his lips, and crooked smile. Would Sam be around to see that?

Stevie noticed when her expression crumbled, and she lost the battle with her tears, as he was watching her intently. He led her to the seat next to Mike and held her hand tightly—his puppy dog eyes filled with concern for her. Even in this he was just like Sam. He remained resilient even as his heart was breaking.

Mike rubbed her arm soothingly, pulling her back into his side, and Mercedes went willingly, with Stevie's hand still coiled firmly around hers.

Later that night, the waiting room was like a tortuous game of musical chairs as their worry kept them from sitting in one position too long.

Mercedes had turned into a pacing mess the longer she went without word. She'd walk the same pattern to just outside the waiting room doors, looking up and down the hallway for a few seconds.

Not seeing any doctors, she'd turn back and ask the desk clerk for any updates. The answer was always the same. She had to wait for the doctor to come back out of the OR.

Then, the pattern would repeat. She was headed back for the hallway when Sam's mother had pulled her down to sit.

"You're going to wear a hole into the floor at that pace, honey," she said softly with a small smile on her face. Mercedes gave her a sheepish look and sighed.

Sam's mom threw both arms around Mercedes, resting the girl's head on her shoulder as she ran her hands through Mercedes hair in comfort.

This was the state Sam's doctor found them in when he walked into room a bit a little while later. Immediately the room was in frenzy as the unhinged family and friends stood and moved to meet him. Mercedes was the first to reach him, but she kept quiet as she studied the doctor's face.

"He's out of surgery," the doctor started and Mercedes heart clenched as she waited for him to go on. "He's awake but still heavily sedated to deal with the pain."

"Is he going to be alright?" Mercedes asked—never one for beating around the bush, especially now. For the second time that night, she held her breath as she waited for her answer.

"Unfortunately," the doctor began and Mercedes' heart sunk. "It's still too early to make any guarantees how he'll progress, but we are doing everything we possibly can. We were able to stop the internal bleeding and repair his fractures. We're still dealing with the collapsed lung, however. We have a chest tube in now and we're hoping that can start to rectify the problem in the next three to four days. He's lost a lot of blood. We've given him transfusions to replenish what he's lost, but he's still really weak. His body has gone through a severe shock and we have him on a respirator to assist his breathing. We're going to keep monitoring his condition closely and we hope he'll make some positive progress in the next few hours."

Mercedes nodded her head, trying to ignore the tightness in her throat. She felt Sam's mom squeeze her hand and turned her attention to everyone else in the room. They were all wearing the same concerned and anxious expressions. It wasn't the best news but it wasn't the worst either and she'd have to live with that for now.

"Can we see him?" she asked the doctor.

"Yes. He's been moved to the ICU wing so you can all go over to that waiting room directly. You'll be allowed inside his room one at a time to see him. Again, he's still pretty heavily sedated from surgery, so he probably won't respond much."

Mercedes' eyes were wide and terrified as she made her way to the ICU waiting room with all the rest of her family, Sam's, and the Changs. She was grateful she had Mrs. Evan's hand to hold onto as they checked in with the desk nurse, but she had to rely on her own strength as an orderly led her down the path to Sam's room.

She'd spent every second since she found out about the accident wanting to see him and be with him and, now that she was getting the chance, her heart was in her throat.

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><p><strong>Still with me? Leave me a review!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** It has been a while, huh? Lol. Wow. To anyone still reading this, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Your reviews have been so sweet and really pushed not to let this go. Hopefully the next update won't take so long. I hope you like it, even if it makes you sad lol. :)

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><p>The doctor <em>had<em> told them not to expect much response, but Mercedes also hadn't expected the state she'd find her fiancé in when she finally crossed the threshold into his room.

There were wires _everywhere_—through his nose, on his hands, on his chest. It seemed his entire body was covered in them. She noticed the bandages next and those overlapped the wires all over his body. His left leg was up in traction at the thigh, his left arm bandaged at the wrist.

Mercedes took a deep breath to prevent her throat from closing up entirely as it threatened to do. Her eyes reflected just how frightened she felt as she moved closer to him. The nurse in the room smiled encouragingly as Mercedes hovered.

"I'm just scared to touch him. Everything looks so… broken," she said choking back a sob.

"You can hold his hand," the nurse said kindly, gesturing to the ride side of Sam's body. It had been the side least affected in the impact. "I'm sure he'd benefit from knowing that his loved ones are here with him."

Mercedes moved closer, swallowing the lump in her throat. Sam needed her to be the strong one for both of them now. It wouldn't do either of them any good to blubber all over him at the moment.

She slid her smaller hand over his and squeezed lightly. Its warmness comforted her and she tried not to be disheartened when he didn't squeeze back. She took a deep breath and looked around at all the machines around him, their beeping seeming to fill the entire room with sound.

She took comfort in the soft, steady beeps of his heart monitor. As long as she heard that, it meant he was still there with her.

Her right hand remained coiled around his while her left hand traveled from her side to his soft dirty blond hair that fell limply on his forehead. She brushed the hair back from his face with gentle fingers, careful not to disturb the bandage on the left side of his head.

Her lips followed her fingers in a tender kiss to his forehead and she let out a relieved exhale when she felt the tiniest bit of pressure from the hand she still held. She quickly pulled back to look at his face and her heart constricted as she registered his pained expression and heard the tiniest whisper of, "Ow," escape his lips.

"Sammy?" Mercedes said hesitantly. Tears were brimming in her eyes but she held them back. She wouldn't cry in here. He already had enough to deal with without her falling apart. "Baby, do you hear me?"

His face was still slightly contorted and he let out the faintest sound of discomfort. Mercedes could feel her control over here tears slipping away. His body was practically lifeless as he lay before her. It was such a contrast to his usual behavior that it literally made her heart ache.

Sam's personality could fill the room. The boy always had something to say. He wore his emotions for the world to see and he was always vehement in feeling them. If he was happy, you knew it. Usually, he couldn't keep still and it would bubble right off his expressive face and into his limbs by extension. It was the same if he was angry, sad, or feeling any emotion, really. His whole demeanor would personify it and it was hard to ignore.

Here, he was void of all of that energy. All of that light and animation that had made Mercedes fall in love with him was missing and all that was left was this pale broken body before her. Even his lips, which were always such a vibrant shade of red, seemed pale and lifeless.

She couldn't see his eyes—he never opened them as he continued to contort his face in pain. The warmth they usually provided her couldn't be a comfort to her now.

Mercedes finally let herself cry silently next to him as she held his hand. She allowed herself a few more moments with him before she went back to the waiting room. Every time he scrunched up his face, she would rub her thumb across the bridge of his nose softly, and it made her smile sadly to watch him relax again.

Before she left, she kissed his forehead, and then his lips gently. She took a few, slow deep breaths to calm herself and steady her voice before she spoke to Sam. Her tone was raw and near pleading.

"I know it's hard babe, and I know you're in so much pain, but you gotta keep fighting, okay? You hear me? Don't you dare stop fighting! I have amazing news for you but you gotta get better so I can tell you. I love you so much."

She stood there for a couple more minutes, holding his hand, silently praying for him, and just looking at him. Walking back out of that door to the waiting room so his other family members could come in was going to be the most difficult thing she ever had to do.

From the moment she'd gotten the call, all she'd wanted to do was be with him. Now that she was—with him as he was—it was going to be painful to walk away from him when all she wanted to do was keep him in her sight.

Again, she felt comforted by the steady beeps of his heart monitor, the warmness of his hand, the slight pressure she felt every once in a while when he squeezed her fingers. His form may have been still but he was still with her. He was her only comfort and walking away from him right now, even for a short time, was going to test her strength.

She bent down for one more kiss to his forehead and his lips, quietly whispering that she loved him before reluctantly relinquishing her hold on his hand, and heading out the door.

The moment she'd let go of his hand the distance overwhelmed her. It took everything within her to keep walking. She didn't look back, knowing that she'd turn right back around and stay with him if she did.

As she stepped into the hall, she took a few moments to compose herself before heading back into the waiting room. Everyone would study her face for a reaction and she didn't want to startle anyone by walking into the room a sobbing mess.

When she finally checked her tears and brought her breathing under control, she joined everyone else in the waiting room. She tried to keep up the brave face as everyone looked to her questioningly and hopefully.

"It's like they said," Mercedes told them. "He's not responding much and he's pretty out of it cause of the drugs." Her voice shook as she spoke. "The nurse says it probably helps him to hear familiar voices."

Sam's mom nodded, bracing herself to go in next and Mercedes accepted the hugs from her parents, Sam's family, and the Changs.

She sat quietly as each of them went in and out, trying to wait as patiently as she could and keep her breathing steady until she could go back in and sit with him.

She'd already decided she'd be there for the night. Sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair was no matter. She wasn't going anywhere unless Sam was coming with her.

Every single person went in and came back trying to keep a brave front. The twins were the last of his family to go. Stevie went first and made it back into the waiting room with a far off look on his face, then suddenly, when he reached his family, his face crumpled and he sobbed for the first time that day.

The reality of the situation was starting to hit them all. His mother cradled him tenderly and whispered to him about being strong and praying for his brother.

Stacey went next and everyone was surprised by how quickly she returned. She ran back into the room and crashed into her father, bawling onto his shoulder. He valiantly tried to console her as Mike went in.

Mercedes stood and moved close to Tina. She smiled gratefully when the girl offered her a hand to hold as she looked on helplessly at the various states of anxiety and grief around her.

As Mike came out and Tina went in, everyone started making preparations for the day. Mercedes would stay to sit with Sam while his family and hers went home to their house. The kids were drained and really needed a break from the hospital after a long night of traveling and worrying.

They'd come back in several hours and give Mercedes a chance to get home and shower and change. As Tina came out the chorus of goodbyes started up and Mercedes received warm hugs from everyone, promising them she'd call if anything changed with Sam's condition. Tina and Mike promised to be back as well.

The family headed for the exits and Mercedes headed right back to Sam's room. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as she pulled the chair by his bed closer to him. She leaned forward on the bed, resting her left arm on it.

She let her chin drop against her arm, angling her head to look at Sam's face. Her right hand grabbed onto his and she lifted it gently to her lips for a kiss before settling their locked hands back onto the bed. Her fingers caressed the back of his hand tenderly and she never turned her attention away from him as she prayed to God and any deity who would listen not to take him away from her.

She must have dozed, because a hand on her back startled her and she sat up abruptly looking around the room. Her eyes settled on Sam first, their hands were still connected and she heard the steady beat of his heart monitor. He still wasn't moving.

Next, she noticed the nurse from before giving her the same kind smile. In her hands she held a pillow and blanket.

"We usually don't allow it," the nurse began and Mercedes prepared herself for the fight. She wasn't leaving him. They'd have to pry her out of the chair then drag her from the room kicking and screaming. Her face probably spoke volumes of her determination but the nurse only continued to smile kindly as she continued.

"But, I brought these in for you. He has a hard enough fight. He could use the support."

Mercedes' throat constricted and she weakly eked out a, "Thank you."

"I'll bring you in another chair for your feet. They'll get swollen hanging straight down like that for too long." With that she disappeared back into the hallway and Mercedes was beyond grateful for this woman's understanding and grace.

She turned her attention back to Sam who was stirring a little bit, but his medication was making him pretty lethargic. She stood up to get a good look at his face, brushing the hair back from his eyes and kissing his forehead. Her heart skipped a beat when his eyes lazily fluttered open. He couldn't get them to open all the way, but she saw a sliver of the green orbs she loved emerge.

"Hi, baby," she said with a smile. She had tears in her eyes but stayed them as she looked at him.

"'Cede…" he said thickly. His voice was heavily slurred but his eyes were open and he did speak so it was progress. Her heart soared and she bent forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips. The faintest smile appeared on his face as she pulled back. His eyes were already closing again but this had to be good, right?

The nurse came back shortly with the extra chair and Mercedes situated herself in the two chairs before taking Sam's hand again. She leaned onto the bed again, watching Sam as he slept and sang softly into the room.

She sang him Human Nature. Sam had always unashamedly told her that her lower register when she'd sung that song with him "did things to his heart and his loins".

She always pushed him away playfully but loved hearing that she could affect him with her voice. He'd always ask her to sing it, and he would grin ear to ear when she complied.

This time he didn't need to ask, she offered it to him like a call to his heart, begging it to keep beating, and begging him to come out of this for her sake and the sake of this child she was carrying, who was going to have the best father in the world.

The rest of the day and evening progressed in the same manner. Mercedes sang all of Sam's favorites softly to him, even going as far as to hum the Avatar theme music. When she called their family and friends to update them on his state she reminded his mother to bring in Sam's iPad. She knew for a fact that the film and its songs were stored on it for any impromptu viewings. If anything could compel him to open his eyes and get better, it'd be Avatar. She'd constantly teased him over his obsession with it, but she'd let him watch it day and night—and as many of his other sci-fi obsessions—if he just got better. She wouldn't even mock him.

Mercedes dozed again only to be awoken by her cell phone buzzing. She fished it out of her pocket and saw Sam's mom's picture lighting up her screen. She answered reluctantly knowing her time was up. She'd now been in the hospital for an entire day and they would force her to go home and get some rest while his mother stayed with him for the next several hours.

She stood up, whispering that she loved him directly into his ear and cupping his cheek. She pulled back up and gave his hand a firm squeeze and kissed his mouth softly.

The way she walked down the hall toward the waiting room could only be described as trudging and she had a matching pout plastered on her face. She wasn't ready to leave him—she never would be.

At home she'd only sit and wonder about him. She'd be surrounded in their life together and it would only make her that more aware of the fact that he wasn't there. He wouldn't be there to hold her as she lay in their bed alone.

He wouldn't practically follow her around the kitchen as she cooked dinner, excitedly chattering about his workday, or his siblings, or whatever else had caught his attention that day.

He wouldn't be next to her in the living room watching The Voice and accusing her of only rooting for Team Adam because she thought he was cute. He just wouldn't be there and she'd feel it severely.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Again, a big thank you to those who continue to read and review this story. It's very much appreciated.

Special thanks to PeaceLoveandLife, Preticules, shanti-noel03, masterajoy, and connect2tjb. Y'all have taken the time to leave me some wonderful messages every chapter without fail and I cannot express how much it means to me.

And thanks to my twinnie **keeponsmilingg** who continues to have faith in me and this story now matter how frustrated I get.

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><p>Mercedes continued her trek out to the waiting room, already preparing all of the points in her argument to stay in the hospital. She was about to spearhead the debate when she was tackled by both her mom and Sam's out of the blue. They were both tearing up and she momentarily panicked, thinking that they'd heard something about Sam in the time it took for her to walk to them from his room.<p>

"What? What's wrong?" Mercedes eyes were alarmed. She was already pushing away from their embrace to turn back toward Sam's room, but Mrs. Evans stopped her with a firm grip on her hand.

"Oh, honey," the woman said, looking into Mercedes' eyes. Mercedes shortly found herself wrapped up in another fierce hug as Sam's mom cried into her shoulder. Mercedes felt her breath becoming shallower. She lifted her eyes to her mother's face in confusion and gave her a questioning look when she found her crying as well.

"Seriously, _what_?" Mercedes asked pulling away from Sam's mother and holding her at the shoulders. Mercedes looked expectantly between Mrs. Evans and her mother, waiting for an answer.

They both hesitated, looking unsure of whether to be happy or sad as they cried, seemingly with no end in sight. Tears streamed down their faces with a few sad smiles mixed in and Mercedes only grew more puzzled.

"Please, one of you say something because you're _really_ freaking me out," Mercedes said and she hoped they'd talk cause they were scaring the crap out of her.

"Honey," her mom started this time. "When did you find out?"

"What are you talking about? About Sam?" Mercedes asked, completely confused.

"The baby," Sam's mom finally managed. At first, Mercedes felt relieved that nothing bad had happened to Sam in the few minutes she'd been away from him. Then, she wondered how they'd known as she hadn't mentioned it to anyone. It was then she finally remembered all the preparations that had been forgotten in the dining room and her heart sunk.

"Oh, God," Mercedes said. She took in a breath and shook her head before slowly exhaling again. "I found out yesterday. I got everything ready to surprise Sam when he got home," she told them. Her face crumpled and she fell into her mother's arms, finally letting go of the emotions she'd been holding back.

"This was not how you guys were supposed to find out," she cried. "It was supposed to be special. This is not how anything was supposed to go."

Her mother pulled back to look at her face, wiping Mercedes' tears with her thumbs even as her own tears fell unchecked. Mrs. Evans guided both of them to an empty row of chairs in the waiting room and the women sat together.

"It's still special, sweetheart," Mrs. Evans said reassuringly. "News like this is always special, no matter how you find out. The circumstances aren't the best, but we're still over the moon. A little Jones-Evans to add to the clan," Sam's mom said with a small smile.

"I'm scared," Mercedes admitted quietly. She looked at both women with tears brimming and spilling over. "I'm terrified I'm gonna have to do this without him. Mercedes Jones, fierce diva, I've had down since I was toddler and, even then, I need him. Mercedes Jones, mother—I was never supposed to do it without him. He was always a part of that dream. It's not complete without him. He's just lying there and it's not fair. What if he—he doesn't—."

She cut herself off with a sob and couldn't bring herself to finish her thought aloud. "He has to be alright," she said. "If he's not, I'm never going to be the same again."

She felt both women embrace her as they all cried and it all seemed so wrong to Mercedes—so undeserved. This was a moment that should have left them crying tears of absolute joy. It should have been picture-worthy. It should have held so much hope for the future. Yet, all three women sat plagued with a possible reality that all of them found too painful to speak of. They could only pray and hope the unthinkable wouldn't happen.

It was a few more minutes before they could break apart from one another again. As soon as they did, Sam's mom took Mercedes' face in her hands once again.

"I know it's hard, sweetheart, but you have to have faith he's going to pull through this. He's in God's hands. We have to trust that. All we can do is keep praying, keep thanking God that he's still hanging on here with us, and keep asking him to watch over Sam—and you, this precious little boy or girl, and our family. No matter how scared we are, we gotta keep believing. Just take it a moment at a time."

Her voice never wavered as she spoke and she looked at Mercedes with the same warm expression she always did. Mercedes had always thought Sam got his resiliency from his father, but she could see now that his mother had a lot to do with it as well.

Mercedes nodded in understanding at her and looked on glumly as Mrs. Evans left the room to go sit with Sam. It'd only been about fifteen minutes since she'd left him, but she was already feeling the anxiety that came with not being able to check on him herself.

The feeling became more pronounced as her mother began to guide her away from the waiting room—away from the ICU wing all together.

"Maybe, I could just stay in the waiting room," Mercedes said attempting to turn back around.

"Honey," her mother said, putting a halt to Mercedes' next protest, "you have been here since _last night_ at this time. You have to eat. You have to get some rest. You have to take care of _yourself_, too—especially now you have two people to worry about. We can't have you collapsing. What good would it be if you end up in there next to him?"

Mercedes seemed to consider this, but her mother was quick in cutting off that train of thought.

"I wasn't presenting that as an option, Mercy," she said exasperatedly. She shook her head and grabbed her daughter's hand. "Let's go. You'll get some food in your system, get some rest, and you'll be back in a few hours."

Mercedes pouted, but complied. Her mother didn't take any chances and held on to her hand the entire way to the car. Mercedes would have laughed if her mother hadn't been right on the money. Several times she got the urge to run back as she moved further and further away from the ICU—and all of those times, only her mother's strong grip kept her from giving in.

The trip home was a silent one as Mercedes was too lost in her thoughts to speak. She held her cell phone tightly in her hand, feeling conflicted about the object. She wanted it to ring but, at the same time, appreciated every second it remained silent because that meant there was no change.

She fought the urge to call Sam's mother for updates as they made their way through the familiar roads of her neighborhood. It was only a few hours until she could go back and she had promised to call if anything big happened. _I can do this_, Mercedes thought taking a deep breath.

She dragged her feet from the car all the way up the walk to her house. Walking inside for the first time since last night felt strange. She stood in the foyer glancing around for a moment, holding back a new round of tears as she regarded everything around her—Sam's well worn Chuck's by the coat rack, the new coat he'd bought her hanging right above them, and the picture of them together that sat on the edge of the table where they kept their mail.

The feel of her mother's hands squeezing her shoulders startled her back out of her thoughts. She shifted her eyes to look at her and tried to smile, but both of them knew it was forced.

She moved through to the living room where Stacey and Stevie sat idly watching television. Both of their heads snapped up when she walked into the room and they smiled at her as they got up to hug her in greeting.

If Mercedes had thought the foyer was tough to take in, the living room topped that by a mile. Sam's guitar sat undisturbed on its stand in the corner of the room. Pictures of them and their lives together stared back at her from picture frames all around the room. His _insane_ DVD collection, which he'd painstakingly categorized by genre and theme—with a special James Cameron section, of course—sat idly. He wouldn't be rifling through them that night and begging her to watch one that was "just a _classic_, Cede!"

She pushed the thought of his excited face out of her head, smiling as reassuringly as she could at the twins before she left the room.

It all reminded her of Sam, their life together, and the future they'd been building up to. It was all just too much—especially when their future was as uncertain as it was.

Mercedes let out a tired sigh, bypassing the kitchen and dining room altogether. Ignoring her mother's protests about needing to eat, she headed straight for the stairs to their bedroom. She was desperate for the respite from reality sleep would provide.

She shut the bedroom door quietly, not bothering to turn on any lights, as she made her way to the bed. She dropped her tired body directly onto Sam's side of the bed, inhaling his scent from his pillow. She closed her eyes tightly against the oncoming flood of tears, trying to imagine him there—his arms around her, his lips on hers, _anything_ to keep her from feeling engulfed in emptiness.

Mercedes reached behind her for the body pillow she liked to sleep with and hugged it close to her body.

Sam _hated_ that thing, claiming she cuddled it more than she did him. She'd always mock him for being jealous of an inanimate object. It was even funnier considering it'd been a gift from him on one of his traveling days, so she'd have something to cuddle while he was away. She'd _never_ failed to remind him of that.

"Yeah, but you're supposed to use it when I'm _not_ here," he'd told her and she only shrugged in response, burrowing her face further into it.

Every night she'd clutch it tight while he spooned her, and every morning she'd wake up to find herself clutching onto him instead—the body pillow gracelessly flung onto the floor.

Sam would _always_ deny throwing it when she turned on him with a suspicious eye in the mornings, telling her one morning, "I have no clue how it fell. I was asleep. I was only happy to oblige your grabby little hands when you wanted to cuddle in your sleep. You should be _thanking_ me."

"Lies," had been her response. "You're a cuddle monster and you know it."

He'd silenced her with a searing kiss and she'd forgotten why she was fighting him in the first place.

Now she was alone and scared shitless and the pillow was all she had. She'd throw it on the floor herself right this second if it meant she'd wake up to find herself cuddled into his side.

Part of her was still wishing that this was all some crazy nightmare and any minute now she'd be waking up. She stared at the digital clockacross from her, watching the minutes tick by, but the nightmare never ended.

Her heart sank when she felt her phone vibrating on the bed. She reached for it with a trembling hand, bringing it up to her ear in record time. Her hello was shaky and hesitant and she shut her eyes against any impending bad news.

"Relax, honey. Hi," came Mrs. Evans' reply. Her voice was calm and Mercedes breathed a sigh of relief. "I just wanted to be sure that y'all made it home alright."

Mrs. Evans was a worry-wart, a fact that her children teased her about constantly, but this time, Mercedes understood her perfectly.

"Yeah. We just got in a little while ago," Mercedes said. "Sorry, I didn't think to call."

"No, it's no problem," Mrs. Evans said kindly. "We all have a lot to think about right now."

"How is he?" Mercedes asked. Her tone was calm but the tense undercurrent they'd all been living with since the night before permeated the silence as she waited for Mrs. Evans to speak.

"The doctors were in to check on him a little while ago. They say his vitals look better. He still has a long way to go before he's all clear, but he's hanging in there. His eyes were open for a bit before. He recognized me, and he was squeezin' my hand," Mrs. Evans said.

Mercedes could hear the smile and emotion in her voice. It broke her heart. As awful as this situation was for her, she could only imagine what Mrs. Evans must have felt like watching her child go through this horrific experience. _Her baby_.

Mercedes had only just found out about _her_ baby the day before and it already made her crazy to think of any harm coming to him…or her.

She swallowed against the tight lump that formed in her throat at the thought and asked, "He spoke?"

"Yeah, a little bit. Not a whole lot but he knew I was there," Mrs. Evans said. "Maybe we'll get a bit more out of him later on. How are you feelin' though? You alright?"

"Honestly?" Mercedes said tiredly. "I don't think I'll be alright until he's home, but I'm trying to just breathe through it."

"That's about all any of us can do—that and prayer. Did you eat something, sweetheart?" Mrs. Evans asked.

"I'm sure my mom will be on my case in a little while," Mercedes replied. "I just came into my room to lie down for a bit."

"As she should! You have to take care of yourself! Oh, that's her calling me right now," Mrs. Evans told her. "Let me let you get some rest, darlin'. I'll call you back in a few hours."

Mercedes quietly said goodbye, then pulled the phone from her ear.

Her eyes settled on the picture on her background screen—a picture she and Sam had managed to stop kissing long enough to pose for right after they'd gotten engaged. Sam's smile was so wide and bright that it appeared his face would burst from the pressure of holding in his joy. Mercedes wore a matching expression, eyes tinted pink with tears, as she proudly held up her hand to show off new ring.

Stevie, unbeknownst to the happy couple, could be seen in the background making a kissing face at his hand. Stacey and Mrs. Evans could also be seen giggling delightedly at his antics.

It had been Mercedes' favorite shot and she'd immediately chosen it as her background screen. She'd also posted it on Facebook the next day, right after changing her relationship status to: engaged.

Mercedes wanted to smile at the memory, but instead found herself swallowing against the lump in her throat as she opened the photo gallery on her phone.

She looked through all the pictures—each one a different moment of her life with Sam. Sometimes she forgot just how long they'd been together, but looking at these pictures—some spanning back to junior year in high school—she was reminded of just how much they'd been through together.

Each one reminded her of exactly what she was missing now—a forever she could possibly lose.

Her eyes settled on a picture of herself with an eight year old Stevie and Stacey. It was on the day of their communions. The three of them all beamed at the camera that Sam held, Mercedes looking like the ultimate proud mother.

She flipped to a shot of herself and Sam on senior prom night in high school. Both of them were unaware of the picture being taken by a sneaky Tina who was heartbroken they'd all be going off while she still had senior year. She wanted to have keepsakes and practically turned into paparazzi at the end of the year.

In the picture, the couple was sitting next to each other on a couch at Sugar's house. People in the background were in various stages of inebriation, but Sam and Mercedes only had eyes for each other. Their foreheads were pressed together with Sam's hands cupping Mercedes' face.

Mercedes had a bright smile on her face and Sam was mid-laugh. Mercedes didn't remember what the conversation had been about but she was very familiar with the look of absolute joy on their faces. It was one she'd sported often in their years together.

The next one she studied was taken on his birthday the year before. Her knees could be seen on either side of his hips as she straddled them. Sam lay shirtless beneath her, both arms crossed behind his head, as he smiled up at her. She didn't need a picture to remind her of what had ensued shortly after that shot had been taken. She hugged the body pillow a little tighter to her.

Her finger hovered over one of the many video icons on the screen. She kept many of Sam's goofy moments handy for the times when she needed a laugh, or when he was away and she missed him.

She played one now, wanting desperately to hear his voice even if it wasn't in person. Maybe just the sound of it would make it less torturous to be in this house away from him.

_Sam and Mike were smiling brilliantly, with their hands in the air, as they belted out the last lines of Adele's Set Fire to the Rain. She'd been performing at the latest iTunes festival in Central Park. Mercedes and Tina had dragged the boys along—or at least they'd thought they were dragging them. By the looks of them, the boys were having a ball. _

_As soon as the song ended they both let out hoots and hollers of their approval along with the crowd. Mercedes and Tina looked on, giggling. Sam turned to face her, a wide grin spread across his face, then pounced sending the camera way out of focus as he kissed her._

_When she'd recovered, the camera returned to his smiling face, as he fixed a black fedora back onto his head._

"_I didn't know you were such a huge Adele fan," Mercedes said. The singer could be heard speaking in the background, a back story to the song she was about to sing._

"_After six years with __**you**__, I have no choice. I'm an Adele fan. All hail the queen," Sam said with a wink at the camera._

_Mercedes' laugh rang out at that. "That's right! I've trained you well."_

"_Are you kidding? I learned my lesson," Sam said shaking his head. "Never again."_

_One time he'd told Mercedes he didn't understand what the big deal was about Adele. They'd been watching the Grammy's and Adele had swept all the categories. _

_Sam had said he thought Bruno Mars deserved to win a few of those categories instead. They'd been the last words he'd spoken to her for the next half hour. Mercedes had refused to talk to him as he'd disrespected her queen and she regretted nothing._

_Sam learned to be an Adele fan that night._

_The music had started back up shortly after their exchange, a slow song this time. Sam fell out of view when he snaked his arms around her waist as he stood behind her._

The video went on with Adele belting _Crazy for You_, but Mercedes stopped it prematurely. She opted for another video instead—gasping softly when Tyler's coos filled the silent room and Sam came into view on the video. He wore a blue long-sleeved Henley with grey sweats, and a blue Yankees cap perched backwards on his head—standard day-off attire. Tyler wore a blue footed-onsie with little yellow monkeys all over it, being entirely too cute for her to handle.

"_Tyler, hey buddy," Sam said excitedly, picking up the baby from his high chair. He carried the baby to the couch and sat back, holding on to Tyler's hands and letting the seven-month old stand on his stomach. Tyler looked to Sam with wide eyes as he cooed and gurgled. He lurched forward, resting his little body across Sam's torso, and reaching out a hand to Sam's face. He pressed his tiny fingers onto Sam's mouth and giggled when Sam parted his lips and smacked them around the baby's fingers playfully. His gummy smile featured only two little teeth and Mercedes was practically overwhelmed with the adorableness before her._

"_This is so cute. I can't even deal with what I'm seeing," Mercedes, said moving closer to the two of them with her iPhone poised to capture every precious moment. The grin on her face was blinding as she watched little Tyler Chang with his godfather._

_Tina and Mike were the ultimate involved super-parents since their son was born, but they'd fallen sick that week—not to mention the fact that the still relatively new mom and dad were simply exhausted and needed a break._

_It had been Uncle Sam and Aunt 'Cedes' pleasure to come to the rescue. They had gladly stepped in, offering their babysitting services for a few days, giving Tina and Mike some much needed time to rest and take care of themselves. Besides, as they were actively trying to get pregnant, this would afford them some practice time._

_They'd been nervous but, the more time they spent with Tyler, the more concretely it established that they wanted a little one of their own. There were more than a few moments, while Sam fed Tyler or Mercedes bathed him, where the couple would catch one another's gaze and be transcended beyond the moment._

_They saw their futures together—a time when they would be doing the same things with their own children. It wouldn't be practice, but their dream come true—and they couldn't wait to get there together._

_In those moments, Mercedes would always get tears in her eyes as the emotions swirled within her. She'd duck her head sheepishly to hide how affected she was. Sam soothed her with kisses, his own eyes shiny with emotion. Then, they'd laugh and mock how disgustingly in love they were. _

_Tyler was always willing to pull them out of those moments with a well-timed cry or wriggle to remind them that, though he was happy they were in love and all, he was still there waiting to be fed or dried off._

_This was another of those moments as Sam turned to smile at Mercedes while the baby continued to reach for his face. Tyler's little hands clenched and unclenched around the skin of Sam's cheek and jaw. Sam had no other choice but to turn his attention back to the baby._

_Sam gasped in mock surprise and Tyler stopped abruptly to look at Sam. Having the baby's full attention, Sam screamed out, "Aaaah!" After a couple seconds of silent confusion, Tyler squealed and giggled, his arms and legs flailing wildly. Sam repeated the action several times, and each time Tyler reacted the same way, laughing as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever seen._

_Sam turned to the camera again and laughed before turning back to Tyler and saying, "You are possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. I think we're going to have to keep you."_

_Tyler squealed again and wriggled in Sam's arm flashing another gummy smile._

"_Yeah? You approve?"Sam asked with a laugh. He brought the baby closer to him and kissed his forehead. Tyler's little hands rested on Sam's wrists as he accepted his kiss, clenching around the livestrong wristband Sam wore. _

_Suddenly, that had his attention and he lowered his eyes to the object, continuing to pull at it with his hands. Sam let him have at it for a few moments, content to just hold him and bounce him on stomach._

_Mercedes reached out to softly pat Tyler's hair with her hand. The baby's head snapped up to her and then Tyler was reaching for the camera she was holding._

"_Oh no," she said with a laugh as the baby tilted himself toward her. She snaked her hand around the baby's middle, pulling him into her lap. She turned him so he was now facing Sam and handed Sam the camera._

_Tyler squirmed reaching for the camera again but Mercedes distracted him with a nearby rattle. As soon as Tyler was holding the object, it was in his mouth. Mercedes picked him up and let him stand on her lap. The rattle was quickly abandoned in favor of her necklace—a colorful piece that was bound to attract some attention._

_She giggled at his avid interest in the object and Tyler looked up at her, still clutching at it. Mercedes continued to smile at him and suddenly he moved his little face forward and gave her a drool-laden kiss that landed on the corner of her mouth._

_Mercedes looked up at Sam in surprise before she left out a loud laugh. The sound made the baby laugh and wriggle his feet in Mercedes lap as he smiled._

_Sam laughed along with them, saying Mike and Tina should have named him Romeo instead. _

"_He's bold, too—laying one on you and I'm sitting right here," Sam joked. "I can't blame him, though. I'm not so good at resisting the urge to kiss your face, either."_

_Mercedes shot him a smile between fondness and exasperation, but his comment earned him a tender kiss._

"_I love you," Sam whispered, before pulling back and readjusting the camera to focus on Tyler._

"_I love __**you**__," Mercedes said, her smiling face looking directly into the camera. Sam's hand reached out to cup her cheek and she huffed out a laugh at the pure emotion on his face before turning her attention back to Tyler._

Mercedes wasn't aware she'd been silently crying the whole time until the video ended a few seconds later and she found herself sobbing loudly into Sam's pillow. She couldn't keep quiet as each one wracked painfully through her. She felt like she couldn't breathe and noisily gulped in air between each set of tears. She let the phone drop onto the bed and clutched at the body pillow with both hands, burying her face into it.

Seeing Sam with Tyler, knowing she was pregnant now—that he might not have a chance to interact that way with his own son—literally _devastated_ her. Her heart just couldn't accept that reality and it left her gasping for air. She knew she had to stay strong and think positively, but she couldn't help feeling heartbroken.

She heard a soft knock on her bedroom door seconds before it opened. Soft footsteps padded across the floor until her mother appeared before her, food tray in hand. She set it down on the nightstand, and then climbed in to sit behind Mercedes, her back resting against the headboard.

Mercedes felt her mom's hands in her hair, brushing the strands back from her face gently. Soon her mother's voice filled the room with a soft rendition of _His Eye Is on the Sparrow_.

It took a little while but, Mercedes' breath evened out, her tears subsided, her tight grip on the pillow eased, and the heavy droop of her exhausted eyes overpowered her. As her mother continued to sing soothingly, Mercedes' worn out body finally surrendered, allowing her brain to shut down as she slept.

She jerked awake a few hours later. The bright green numbers on her digital clock informed her it was a few minutes past midnight. She sat up shakily in bed, holding her head at the dizzy feeling that attacked her. Her head ached and she felt absolutely weak.

The bed was empty and she figured her mom must have headed back downstairs sometime after she'd fallen asleep. She turned on the bedside lamp, squinting as she adjusted to the light. She gathered her sweater closer, feeling impossibly cold. Her eyes stung from the crying and she couldn't deny the hunger pangs that plagued her.

Her eyes settled on the food her mother had brought up. It'd gone cold, but she was hungry. She resolved to make the effort to eat, but not before going into her bathroom to wash her face and relieve some of the sting from crying.

She didn't temper the cold water at all and let its coolness jolt some life and awareness into her. Her hair was a matted mess, but she ignored it as she bunched it up into a bun on top of her head and reached for a towel to dry her face.

Her eyes fell on the pregnancy test on the counter and she stared at it for a moment, trying to keep her composure, before she headed back into her room.

She carried the tray of food her mother had no doubt put some real work into downstairs. She'd heat it up and eat as much as she could. Her mother and Sam's were right—she had two people to take care of now. She couldn't flake on that responsibility if she wanted her little boy or girl to be healthy. Even if she didn't feel like it, her primary responsibility here was no longer herself.

Mercedes padded softly through the silent house, stopping short when she reached the dining room and turned on the light. She struggled to keep her breathing even as she looked around the room. Someone had gotten rid of the meal she'd laid out to surprise Sam, but the balloons and other decorations stood prominently—a reminder of how different life had been a mere twenty-four hours ago.

An inauspicious feeling laced with anxiousness and dejection rose within Mercedes and she started off for the kitchen as the emotions swirled dangerously inside of her. She dropped the tray of food onto the counter, already forgetting it, and grabbed the first sharp object she could find—in this case a butcher's knife.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered that it was too late for what she was about to do, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. The balloons, streamers, and banner never stood a chance. She attacked them all intensely, crying harder and harder, as each balloon popped loudly in the silent house. More tears fell with every cut up streamer—and even more with every little piece of the banner she sliced through.

She couldn't stop, however, and continued to hack angrily at the objects around her. Unbeknownst to her, she'd gathered an audience. Her family and Sam's looked on a bit helplessly as she went on, shredding everything in the room until it lay in piles of rubble.

When she finally popped the last balloon, she dropped the knife onto the table with a satisfying clatter and surveyed her handiwork. The once beautiful space was an absolute clusterfuck. Mercedes thought it was very fitting considering the state of things.

She turned to pull out a chair at the dining room table, having tired herself out completely. She let out a startled gasp at the five sets of eyes that regarded her. Stacey's bottom lip quivered as the girl asked, "Did you hear from mom? Did Sammy die?" _Shit._

The girl's eyes were terrified and Mercedes felt awful. Here she was freaking out in the middle of the night, scaring the crap out of her family.

"No, sweetie, nothing like that. I'm so sorry," Mercedes said shaking her head and covering her face with her hands for a moment. "I saw the balloons and I just lost my head. I'm so sorry."

Mercedes pulled out a chair and sat down dejectedly. She placed her elbows on the tables and dropped her head into her open palms. She expected glares and disappointment when she looked back up at them but was surprised to find them all moving toward the table and pulling out chairs to sit with her. Mr. Evans sat across from her while the twins took up seats on either side of her. Her father sat next to Mr. Evans and her mother moved into the kitchen, grabbing her tray of food to heat up.

Stevie squeezed her shoulder and offered her an all too familiar crooked grin that broke her heart. "You're allowed to freak out about this, you know? You shouldn't keep anything bottled in or you'll go crazy." he said wisely. "Just, could you maybe hold off on popping balloons until daylight next time? I had to stop dad from coming down here with a baseball bat."

Mercedes shot Mr. Evans a sheepish smile at that. "Sorry," she mumbled. They all chuckled softly the situation. It was really all they could do.

To her surprise everyone sat around the table as she ate, just talking about Sam and trying their best to comfort one another. They chanced a call to Mrs. Evans and breathed a sigh of relief for another moment as she told them that Sam was still hanging on.

They prayed together at the table, with Mrs. Evans still on the line. God could hear them individually, but it had to be even more effective when they called upon him together as a family—at least that's what they hoped.

When the meal was done, Mercedes moved with the twins to the living room while the parents said goodnight again and went to bed. They rifled through the Disney section of Sam's DVD collection settling on _Finding Nemo_. The three of them snuggled under one blanket, the twins clutching on to Mercedes' sides as they watched.

They were missing a key member of their usual DVD watching group, but the three of them took comfort in each other. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long until Sam was back where he belonged.

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><p><strong>AN: Please review! I love to hear from y'all! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** If anyone is still reading this, thank you for bearing with me lol. It's very much appreciated.

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><p>Mercedes sighed quietly, smiling as a familiar pair of arms wrapped themselves around her middle, pulling her into the warmth of a well-known embrace. The parted curtains in their bedroom allowed a gentle sheen of sunlight in to cocoon them and bathe the room in a soft glow.<p>

"Morning, baby," came the low rumble of Sam's voice in her ear, sending a light shiver down her spine. Even after years together, he still managed to have that effect on her, setting butterflies aflutter in her stomach with just the sound of his voice.

She shifted backwards a bit, wanting to be as close to him as possible, and was helpless to stop the low moan of his name that whispered out of her when she felt his lips kissing their way down her neck, to her exposed shoulder. He pulled her impossibly tighter against him, nuzzling his nose into her skin and breathing her in.

She hadn't opened her eyes yet, relishing in his attention and the effect it was currently having on her body. It was a brilliant way to wake up—in the arms of the person she loved the most in the world, making her feel loved and protected. She never wanted to leave this moment. Soon they would need to get back to reality, but they could indulge in each other for a few more moments.

A soft gurgle had her eyes opening and she gasped, her face breaking out into a wide smile, at the sight of her son before her. He was perfect, with a head of honey-blond curls, soft caramel colored skin, and big green eyes. He had a button nose like hers, but his mouth was all Sam's. She couldn't help but laugh at the footed Batman onesie he wore, a purchase that had no doubt been made by his father. He offered her a big gummy smile, just like his father's, as he continued to move around on the bed, babbling a bit now.

She felt Sam lift his head up from behind her and look over her shoulder at their son. "Charmer, right?" Sam asked, turning to smile at her. "He's already got that Evans smile down. Looks like the little man wants to get his cuddles, too," Sam said with a chuckle, lifting himself up from his spot. Mercedes instantly missed his warmth, but was soon too overwhelmed with the feeling that consumed her as she watched him take up their son in his arms. He held him against his bare chest as he hummed softly and sat back on the bed.

The only thing Mercedes felt now was awe as she watched their baby nuzzle the side of his face against his father. She watched Sam smile softly at the action and drop a kiss onto his son's curls, cradling his face against him gently. The baby brought a little thumb to his mouth and watched her with big, curious eyes.

After a moment, he broke out into another gummy smile around his thumb and Mercedes was overwhelmed with the need to hold him, to share in this moment with Sam. Sam seemed to pick up on this and extended his arm to call her forward into his embrace. "Come here, babe," he whispered, and she went without hesitation, resting her head onto his shoulder and reaching a hand out to run through their baby's messy curls.

The feeling of complete contentment lulled her into a restful sleep, feeling safe and protected in Sam's hold, with their baby looking on.

A tinkering sound awoke Mercedes to a _completely_ different reality—a dark room totally void of the warm glow of sunlight. She instantly knew she wasn't in her bed, and the warm dream she'd been living in only moments before, was now nothing more than a fading memory that left her cold and achingly empty.

Sitting up blearily as the tinkering continued, she took in her surroundings and realized she'd fallen asleep in the living room. The light from the digital clock on the cable box provided the only illumination in the room and told her it was 5:15 in the morning—a mere three hours after her last remembered moment of consciousness, when Sam's mother had sent her a text to let her know he was still fighting, and her brain had calmed enough to fall into an exhausted sleep.

A whacked out internal clock seemed to be the byproduct of her nervous state. Even in the brief unconsciousness sleep provided, her body was well aware that all was not right. She was never aware of falling asleep—her exhaustion just overwhelmed her brain into shutting down. She awoke like this, uncertain of her surroundings—uncertain of anything.

Her dream, the contentment she'd felt in that imagined moment with her family, was now a dull ache in her heart as she scanned the living room. Stacey was practically curled into a ball on the loveseat to her right. She clutched the blanket that covered her tightly to her chin, tear tracks marring her face.

Mercedes thought back to the night before, when Stacey had broken down during the first minutes of the film. The poor girl's emotions were shot, and she'd been a wreck, unable to focus on the movie.

Mercedes had been her protector then, telling her to remain strong and echoing the words Mary Evans had spoken to her—have faith he'll make it through, keep praying, and take it a moment at a time. It had seemed to calm Stacey then and Mercedes was glad to comfort her, given how wary she was herself.

A rustling sound to her left made her fix her eyes on the sleeping form currently occupying Sam's recliner. Stevie—_her_ little protector, _everyone's_ protector—was knocked out, no doubt exhausted from hours of trying to keep himself and everyone else together.

In the face of this disaster, despite how distraught _he_ must have been feeling, Stevie was focused on helping everyone _else_ through their pain. He gave his sister frequent pep talks, hugged anyone in need, and took care of anything he could that would make life a bit easier on everyone.

He'd wordlessly helped Mercedes clean the mess she'd made of the dining room the night before. He'd also packed his mother a plate of food, figuring she'd be hungry when they got to the hospital in the morning. Mercedes guessed he was also responsible for the blanket she was wrapped in—she hadn't had it earlier.

Sam was Stevie's example—the boy simply _idolized_ his older brother. It broke her heart to think of what it did to him to see his hero in this state. Yet he'd stepped in, as Sam would, to be strong for his family. Mercedes couldn't have been prouder of him.

She stepped off the couch, gathering the blanket with her. The boy had tucked her in— probably his sister too—and then passed out on the recliner without a blanket for himself. She returned the favor and smiled as he gathered the warm fabric close and turned over to sleep a little more comfortably.

She knew she had no hope of falling back asleep, thoughts of Sam pervading her thoughts, so she immediately headed toward the kitchen, where the tinkering continued, now accompanied with some hushed conversation.

Instead of her parents, whom she'd fully expected to find, Mercedes was surprised to walk in on Tina and Kurt moving around her kitchen. Kurt winced the second he saw her, but moved toward her anyway.

"We didn't wake you, did we?" he asked with his face scrunched in concern.

Mercedes ignored his question and accepted his embrace with a tight hug of her own. "What are you doing here?" she asked quietly burying her face into his neck. He'd been off in Paris for work for the last several months. His was the last face she expected to see right then, but she was happy just the same. "What about work?"

"Are you kidding? I was on a plane the second I heard. Work can manage without me for now. You're more important," Kurt said simply, cradling her head against him.

Mercedes only nodded as she fought against the tears that stung at her eyes. It was a wonder she had any left at this point. She wasn't sure how soon the baby hormones would affect her, but she blamed it on them anyway.

She pulled away from him a little while later, offering him a sad smile, before recollecting herself. She'd barely gotten her breakfast offer out of her mouth, before they were ushering her into a seat at the table.

"We are here to take care of _you_. There's quite enough on your plate," Kurt said cutting her off. "Besides, I picked up a few new kitchen skills over in _Paris_," he said, pronouncing the city's name in French, "and if I ever figure out how to work all the fancy gadgets on your stove, everyone's in for treat."

Mercedes watched Kurt flit busily around the kitchen while Tina came over and sat next to her. Tina's hand enveloped her own, and she turned to give her friend a small smile.

"I couldn't sleep," Tina started. "So when I picked up Kurt from the airport, we just decided to come straight here—then failed miserably at being quiet." Tina's expression was apologetic, but Mercedes waved her off.

"I would have been up to head back to the hospital soon anyway," Mercedes said. "Don't worry about it. Plus, I'm about to get a meal out of it. You're both forgiven."

Kurt came around the kitchen island smiling as he set down a mug of coffee in front of her. "Well, first up is this fine mug of Italian roast I procured during my travels. I know you don't run without it." Mercedes smiled gratefully and brought the mug to her lips. She was about to take a sip, but set it down after a moment's hesitation and eyed it thoughtfully.

"What?" Kurt asked, watching her action with confusion. Mercedes was never one to turn down a cup of coffee, especially if she was up before noon. "That's good stuff. I put three sugars in, just like you like it, too."

Mercedes shook her head, already lost in her thoughts. Her dream played again in her head. The warm glow, Sam's embrace, and the beautiful baby boy—their baby boy—flashed in her mind. Her hand drifted to her stomach, as it often did now when she thought of their baby, and she swallowed thickly as she looked back to Kurt and Tina's worried faces.

"I can't," she told them and watched their confusion crease their faces. Mercedes sighed as she looked between them. This wasn't how she'd pictured sharing the news with them, and she certainly hadn't imagined doing so before she'd even told Sam. Everything was already upside down and backwards, however, and she needed her friends, especially Tina, at the moment.

"I'm pregnant," Mercedes uttered quietly. She heard immediate, simultaneous gasps from Kurt and Tina in response and stared down into her hands as she wrung them in her lap. "I don't think I'm supposed to have it." When neither of her friends said anything, she looked back up to them with tears in her eyes. It quickly turned into a watery giggle when she saw Tina's hands covering her nose and mouth while tears ran unheeded from her eyes. Kurt's hand was pressed against his heart as he cried.

Like her mother and Sam's the day before, their expressions were a battle between extreme happiness and heartbreak and Mercedes let out chuckle, that bordered on a sob as she said, "I mean, I only did the 'at home' exam. It's not confirmed by a doctor or anything but…" She trailed off when Tina practically lunged at her, wrapping her up in a hug and sobbing into her neck.

"Mercy," was all Tina could say. Mercedes felt the girl's hand at her back, sweeping in soothing patterns. The only sounds in the room were sniffles and shaky inhales of breath.

"When did you find out?" Kurt asked a few moments later when emotions had settled a bit in the room. He took her hand in his and squeezed.

It was too much for either of them to take as Mercedes went through the events of that day with them—how she'd gone from the complete high of finding out she'd finally be starting a family with Sam, to the horror they were all now living with, to how terrified she was at the prospect of losing him. Her friends both cried silently with her, trying to be as consoling as they could be as she relived every aching second of that day.

"I'm going to take care of everything," Tina concluded, getting a hold of herself. Mercedes could see the determination on her friend's face. "The doctor's appointments, the vitamins, the stuff the baby needs, everything. I don't want you to worry about any of it. I don't want you to be scared."

"We know everything's kind of shot to hell right now," Kurt said. "But we're both going to be there every step of the way—good, bad, terrifying, whatever—until Sam's well enough to take his place," Kurt promised.

"I couldn't ask you guys to do that," Mercedes protested. "Tina, you have to worry about your family and Kurt, what about your work?"

They both responded with the same look that said 'Girl, stop' and Mercedes would have laughed if the entire situation hadn't been the furthest thing from funny.

"You are part of my family, Mercedes. You and Sam were the maid of honor and best man to Mike and me. You're our son's godparents. You need us so we're going to be there, end of story. Don't you dare argue with me. You know you'd do the same for me," Tina said resolutely.

Kurt chimed in before Mercedes could think of a reply. "You're always the one who's there for everyone, from fashion disasters to opening up your home to us all when we're in shambles. Let us be there for you for a change."

Mercedes knew arguing would prove to be a futile effort. She could feel her throat tightening with emotion looking between her friends.

If the last few hours had taught her anything, it was that they all were in this together. They were all living this hell and they would all need each other in order to push through. They would need to build each other up and keep the morale high so they could all be there for Sam and for the new baby that would soon join them.

Squeezing Kurt's hand and offering him and Tina a small, grateful smile, she tacitly accepted their support. They'd always been there for her, no matter what. It was a comfort to know that wouldn't change, even as her entire world seemed to be shifting.

* * *

><p>True to her word, Tina had taken care of everything. Before the day was out, Mercedes found herself in the middle of her first ultrasound, accompanied by what had to be the most chaotic group the poor doctor had ever seen. Mercedes' mother, as well as Sam's, along with Stacey, Tina, and Kurt piled into the small room 'oohing', 'aahing', and crying at the small mass on the monitor the doctor had labeled 'Baby Evans.' Sam's father, Mercedes' father, and Stevie had taken up the hospital duties for the time.<p>

At the revelation that she was nine weeks along, Mercedes mind traveled back to that particular time, knowing exactly which weekend this bundle of joy had most likely been conceived. Kurt had organized an elaborate costume party for Halloween, but she and Sam had never made it. Mercedes had walked into the living room to show off her Eartha Kitt-inspired Catwoman costume, and Sam, in his Batman costume, had pounced. They never made it off the couch, let alone out the door.

Mercedes didn't want to seem ungrateful, knowing everyone just wanted to be there for her, but she couldn't help how badly she wanted Sam just then. This was supposed to have been their moment. She could see it all in her mind—the happy grin he wouldn't have been able to wipe off his face, the incessant questions he'd shoot at the doctor, the silly way he'd have waggled his eyebrows when he remembered that weekend with her. He'd probably have sung Little Fetus to her belly like Phoebe from Friends and then they'd tease each other for crying because they were finally going to start their family. He should have been there.

But, he wasn't. She couldn't share this with him and she'd never felt his absence more acutely.

She was powerless to stop the sob that escaped her as she stared at the picture. All the noise in the room stopped abruptly and she felt Tina's arms around her immediately. All she could think about was his happy face in her dream and how badly she wanted that to be real. She was grateful for how understanding everyone was in that moment, stepping out of the room and giving her the space to breathe and cry it out.

"It's not fair," she said aloud—a mere observation, not really addressed to anyone, as she continued to cry.

Still, Tina answered, "I know. Just breathe."

There wasn't much else to say, so Mercedes took comfort in Tina's hold and focused on doing just that.

* * *

><p>Mercedes was composed by the time she saw Sam again, retaking her position by his bedside at the hospital and determined to remain strong for him.<p>

He was still a mess of wires and bandages, but she told herself she could detect a rosier hue about him today. He'd been a bit more alert, recognizing everyone that came in to speak to him and even talking for minutes at a time, but he was by no means out of the woods. He still required the help of a respirator to breathe and his severely drug-addled state kept him coming in and out of moments of lucidity.

Even when he was able to open his eyes and acknowledge her, he was still entirely too fragile— incapable of taking in and understanding any life-changing information for the moment.

It was torture not to be able to talk to him, but Mercedes shared it with him in another way, just needing the moment to feel close to him.

Standing next to his bedside, she gently took up his hand in both of hers and brought it up to her stomach. She knew he couldn't feel the baby moving around or anything, but she liked to think they'd made a connection somehow. It might have been stupid, but she figured they could help each other along.

Sam's hand startled her then, squeezing her belly with just the slightest bit of pressure, and Mercedes couldn't help but take that as a sign. She allowed herself a small smile in the moment—their first family moment—as she she leaned in to brush her lips against his.

She settled in on the chair next to his bed, keeping his hand in hers, and resting her head against the bed. She'd zoned out into a memory in seconds.

_"Are you insane? I'm not naming my child James Earl Jones-Evans, Sam!" Mercedes squealed out from her seat next to him on the couch, already falling apart into giggles. "Like—what?" They'd randomly gotten into this argument about naming their imaginary children after spending an afternoon watching 19 Kids and Counting._

_"Come on, babe!" Sam insisted. "It'd be like the coolest name ever and I would teach him all my impressions, including his namesake."_

_"Ne-ver," Mercedes enunciated, still laughing and shaking her head. "And you can forget about Jake Sully or Neytiri or Jack Ryan or Captain Apollo or whatever else you've got swirling around up there," she finished, tapping a finger against his forehead._

_Sam honest to goodness pouted at that, crossing his arms over his chest and turning back to the TV show. Mercedes had already dashed his dreams, telling him he'd get no more than two—at most three—babies out of her; after that, he'd need to find his own womb. Now he'd never get the pleasure of giving his children any of the most epic names ever. His heart was broken.  
><em>

_"Well you can't name any of them Aretha or Whitney or Mariah, then," he said sullenly. If he wasn't getting his heroes, neither was she._

_Mercedes rolled her eyes at him. "I wasn't going to do that anyway," she informed him, looking nonchalantly at her fingernails. She was a lying liar who lied, because she'd definitely thought about it. _

_"Oh yeah? What names did you come up with then?" Sam challenged, raising an eyebrow._

_Mercedes sighed and looked at him, getting serious for a second. "Well, I don't have like a whole list or anything, but I thought Cameron would be a good name."_

_Sam stayed quiet for a moment, simply staring at her as he considered it._

_"Yeah," Mercedes went on. "It would work for a boy or a girl. It's sounds nice with Evans. We could call them Cam or Cammy, so it's similar to your name. Plus, we could fulfill your nerdy quotient and pay homage to your idol, Mr. James Cameron, all in one—**and** our child doesn't need to resent us later in life because we named him James Earl Jones-Evans. Simple."_

_She wasn't ready for him to pounce so she let out a squeal when he did and proceeded to kiss the breath out of her. She shrieked louder when he picked her up in a make-shift fireman's carry, smacked her butt, and started to cart her up the stairs to their bedroom._

_"What are you doing, baby?" she asked through her uncontrollable giggles._

_"Getting to work on Cameron," Sam replied without hesitation. Mercedes laughed, but didn't fight. Sam did good work._

A small tug on her hand pulled Mercedes out of her recollection and she immediately turned her head to find Sam's eyes open and looking at her. She jumped up immediately and stood up to be closer to him. "Baby!" she said with a wide smile, brushing the limp strands of hair of his face. "Hi!"

"Hi," he returned weakly, smiling at her, and she leaned forward to give him a kiss, her heart swelling when she felt a bit of pressure from his lips against hers in return.

"Should I call a nurse? Do you need water—or-or juice? Food?" she asked, not being able to stop herself from fussing over him.

"Water," he eked out and squeezed her hand as reassuringly as he could. She jumped at the task, filling his cup with some cool water and extending the straw to his mouth. She watched him drink, ignoring the tears that stung her eyes. Now wasn't the time.

She fluffed her hands around his pillows and moved her hands gently over his bandages when he'd finished. "How do you feel?" she asked quietly.

"Like I got hit by a car," Sam joked weakly. He smiled crookedly when her hands froze and she looked up at him, her mouth agape. Her eyes flashed—horror, irritation, and fondness all in one look.

"That's not _funny_," she said, scrunching up her face in a pout as a tear slipped out.

"That bad?" he asked referring to his joke at the sight of her tear.

Mercedes laughed despite herself and sat back in her seat, holding his hand, pulling up closer to him, and resting her head close to his hip. "Shut up, Sam," she said looking up at him.

He smiled at her, his heavy eyelids beginning to droop, and squeezed her hand. She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers before he fell back asleep.

Hopefully this would be the changing of tides, she thought, as she pulled out her cellphone to call his mother.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Please review? Please? It is a work in progress and reading your reviews is both wonderful and a HUGE motivation. I love to hear from y'all! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Because I said I would.

I want to give a special shout out to **thePerfectInsanity** who always leaves me the sweetest reviews and messages about this story. Her kind words help me to keep writing, even when I feel really crappy about it. Knowing that the writing and the effort it takes to churn out updates is appreciated goes a really long way in motivating me to keep up with them. Thanks, bb.

Anyway, onward. Please forgive any errors.

* * *

><p>"<em>You're going to have to let me move eventually," Sam said with a soft chuckle, running his fingers lazily through his fiancée's hair. Her head lay pillowed against his chest and the rest of her body was strewn across his body—arm around his waist—effectively holding him down when he'd tried to leave their bed earlier.<em>

"_You're gonna have to make me," she retorted, her voice slightly muffled by his chest. She made absolutely no effort to move from her position and Sam laughed._

"_I'm going to be late and miss my flight," he told her, and laughed again quietly when she only shrugged._

"_I'm not really seeing the problem there," she replied, tightening her hold on him._

"_Baby," Sam said with a regretful chuckle and Mercedes sighed against him._

"_I don't want to," she said, and he could hear the pout in her voice, before she turned her lips to his bare chest and let a kiss linger there. "I don't want you to go."_

_He quirked his lips sadly as he listened to her. Most of the time, she was absolutely fine. She would see him off with a sad smile, simply telling him she'd miss him. Days like this, however, the usual tinge of loneliness grew overwhelming. He hated seeing what his frequent absences did to her. _

"_I don't want to, either," he said solemnly. "I wish you could come with me, but it's only a few days," he said, touching his chin to her hair. "I'll be back before you know it. I'll keep you in bed until you're sick of me."_

_He ran a hand over her soft, bare thigh which rested across his hip and groaned at the feel of her lips continuing to leave kisses on his skin. He was definitely going to miss this every night he was away. _

_He told her as much, bringing her up for kiss. His brow furrowed slightly when he pulled away, finding her looking at him with a light sheen of tears in her eyes. That was new. She'd never cried before when he'd left on these trips._

"_Hey, don't do that," he said quietly. "Why are you crying? Baby, stop," he said cupping her face, trying to make her look at him. _

_Mercedes resisted and looked away, resting her forehead against his collarbone. Sam slowly sat up as best he could, leaning back against the headboard and pulling her into his arms._

"_I'll be back in a few days," he soothed quietly against her temple and she nodded even as she continued to cry. He could feel her hot tears on his skin and each new one built on to his alarm. "What's going on?" he asked softly and she lifted her eyes up to his face, shrugging slightly._

_Sam had no idea what'd been happening with her lately. She'd been moody, crying more than usual. She'd been sleeping more and dealing with nausea that had kept her home a few days just that week. He looked at her gloomy expression, and started second-guessing the trip. He couldn't leave her like this._

"_I'm gonna call Nate and tell him to take over for me on this one," Sam said, referring to the assistant he usually traveled with. He grabbed her face and kissed her nose. _

_Mercedes immediately shook her head. "No, don't. I'll be fine," she said. _

"_You never cry like this when I leave, though, and you've been sick this week. Maybe we should just go to the doctor. I don't have to go. My boss will under—," Sam began, but was cut off by Mercedes' words._

"_No," Mercedes said sternly. "I promise you, I'll be fine. I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm just going to miss you is all."_

"_You are?" Sam said looking at her in mock-surprise. "I thought you'd be happy?"_

"_You're leaving for 10 days. Why on earth would that make me happy?" Mercedes said, pulling her head back to stare at him in askance._

"_No forcing you to have bacon sword battles with me at the breakfast table, no singing the Batman theme song incessantly when I'm getting ready for bed, or singing Call Me Maybe extra loud in the shower in the mornings."_

_Mercedes looked at him and her bottom lip poked out in a pout as she considered his words. Sam gasped in mock-surprise. "Are you actually going to miss those things?"_

_Mercedes didn't answer, only laying her head on his shoulder. Sam's hand swept up and down her back soothingly as he chuckled at her. "I'm going to have to remind you of this moment the next time you're side-eyeing me."_

_They stayed quiet; simply holding on to one another for the bit of time they had left. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Sam asked. He couldn't help worrying._

"_I promise," Mercedes whispered quietly._

"_I'll be back before you know it," Sam said softly. He placed a gentle kiss to her mouth; meaning for it to be a quick, soothing gesture, but Mercedes had other ideas. She immediately cupped the back of his head, coaxing his mouth open with her tongue. Things escalated quickly from there._

_He'd been powerless to stop his own from joining the fun. It didn't help matters that they were both already naked—having found themselves in a similar situation the night before—providing endless inches of skin to tease. The fire of arousal was stoked in seconds. _

Sam grumbled internally when his hospital room door opened, pulling him out of the memory before he was ready. He hadn't even gotten to relive the best part. It'd been the last moment he shared with Mercedes before that final trip out of town. She'd definitely sent him on his way knowing just what he'd be leaving behind so he'd hurry back.

The drugs left him pretty woozy all the time, which he hated but he'd seen enough of the damage on his body over the last several days to know he'd probably be in agony without them. He was able to flutter his eyes open, however, and his grumbling was instantly quieted by the sight of his fiancée walking toward him.

He didn't know how long she'd been gone—time seemed to run together in his constantly drug-addled state—but his heart seemed to miss her, skipping an excited beat as she moved closer to him. He wasn't sure he wasn't still daydreaming as he took in her beautiful face.

She was practically glowing as she looked down at him, her hair falling around her face in soft ringlets. He loved those. She beamed down at him, her smile stretching prettily across her lips, keeping her hands around the bed rail.

He felt a goofy smile spreading helplessly, despite the slight pain it caused as the action stretched the cuts on his face. It was the same every time she'd come in the last several days. Every day she'd come in looking more gorgeous than the last. Then she'd make his day just by smiling at him and saying, "Hi, baby." He could see her eyes sparkling with happiness every time his fluttered open to return her greeting.

Off the heel of his little daydream just moments before, she seemed entirely too far away from him. He lifted his hand towards hers, wanting to hold them—to feel physically connected to her in some way. He found he couldn't reach the entire way as his hand waivered weakly just a few inches off the bed and hovered there slightly before he had to drop it back onto the bed.

She got the message, however, moving one of her hands off the railing and taking his hand in hers. She bent her head and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles. The touch of her lips sent a jolt right to his heart and he puckered his lips up at her comically. Now that he'd gotten a bit of contact, he only wanted more.

Mercedes giggled and stared at him for a moment before lowering her head down to kiss him. He mewled, squeezing her hand, when she started to pull away. She huffed out another laugh, pressing her lips are bit harder against his. "Someone woke up in a frisky mood this morning," she said, laughing.

_She had no idea_, Sam thought, thinking back to the memory he'd been playing in his mind earlier.

She looked at him questioningly when she finally pulled away again, and he started to tug on her hand. "What? What's wrong?" she asked him with a giggle.

"Come here," Sam croaked out, his voice raspy from disuse.

"Where?" Mercedes asked with another laugh; her eyebrows rose in clear amusement.

"_Here_," Sam said like it was obvious. "Next to me."

"I can't get into your bed, Sam," Mercedes protested, laughing outright now and louder still when his features rearranged into the surliest pout he'd ever mustered.

"Why not?" he questioned, tugging on her hand still.

"First of all, there's about an inch of space between this railing and your leg. Where would I go? I'd be on top of you," she reasoned and Sam wondered why she thought that'd deter him.

"That's not a problem," Sam rasped, blinking lazily as she smiled.

Mercedes shook her head. "Yes, it is. I'm sure your broken ribs wouldn't support that too well," she told him, biting back a smile.

Sam sighed a little forlornly and he could see a twinge of sadness as she watched him and ran her thumb back and forth over his knuckles. Now that he was focused on her face, he realized he could see the tired creases around her eyes, the slight puffiness around that space that meant she'd been crying and trying to hide it from him.

He groaned his frustration at the situation internally. All he wanted to do was hold her and kiss away all the worries he could see so clearly on her face, but he was too weak to even breathe on his own. Every day was a struggle to keep up the fight. It killed him to think that he wasn't strong enough for her at the moment—that she had to keep her feelings hidden away from him because he couldn't handle it.

Their relationship had always been about sharing everything together—facing everything, good or bad, as one. It wasn't a good feeling knowing he couldn't be there for her like he wanted to be now.

They stayed quiet for a moment, Mercedes standing next to his bed, watching him intently, holding his hand as he stared back at her trying to find the words to reassure her.

"I miss you." Her quiet confession broke his heart. He wanted to tell her he was right there, but he knew what she meant, so he only squeezed her hand in return, staying silent to keep his emotions at bay.

He felt it, too. He felt it every time she walked away from his bed, even as another one of their family or friends took her space.

He felt it in the moments he spent without her lying in a bed that wasn't their own, having to make do with memories and daydreams because he couldn't go to her and just be with her.

He felt it in not being able to hold her in his arms like he wanted to—when he saw tears just behind her eyes, and had to settle for holding her hand because he was too weak to do much else.

He felt it in the relief he saw in her eyes every time his fluttered open to look at her, or the way she watched him intently at every second as if she couldn't just relax—like she was always just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He felt it as he watched her out in the hall whenever she left the room. She would always stop herself from looking back. She'd stop just outside the doorway, willing herself to take several deep breaths, before she walked away.

He felt it in the way he couldn't reassure her completely. He couldn't promise her that everything would be okay—not the way he felt now, with the medication that swam heavily through his bloodstream keeping him from the pain that threatened to overwhelm him and stole his moments of clarity; not with the respirator that kept his heart beating for him, that the doctors couldn't even start to wean him off of; not with the uncertainty they lived with, not knowing when or if he'd be able to leave the hospital.

He watched her take a seat by his bedside, never letting go of his hand as she brought the chair a little closer. "I'm sorry this is happening," he told her quietly.

"It's not your fault, Sam. You don't have to apologize," she reassured him.

"I'm not apologizing," he insisted. "I just—I'm sorry you have to deal with this at all."

"You're the one in the hospital bed, baby," she reminded him with a smile. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Just worry about you, healing and getting through this so we can focus on…everything else."

He thought the pause in her words was strange and looked at her intently for a moment as she smiled at him. Ultimately, he figured she was simply talking about their upcoming wedding and everything they'd planned to have in the future—she'd get that recording contract and win a Grammy, they'd buy that huge house of their dreams, have a couple of kids and spend the rest of their lives together. It was the perfect plan.

He smiled as he shared those particular dreams with her. It was nothing that he hadn't told her before, but he'd never grow tired of reminding her that he intended to share his forever with her—besides, it was better to think about that than all the other dark thoughts that were roaming his head.

"As soon as I get out of this hospital," he promised. "We're going to have it all."

There was an intense emotion in her eyes as he spoke. He couldn't put his finger on it and simply attributed it their current situation. She looked away from him, down into her lap with a small smile.

She looked back up at him, about to say something, when a sharp pain in his belly left him gasping for air. Her eyes widened in alarm and she stood up, immediately starting to fuss over him.

"Are you okay? I'll get the nurse," she said.

"No," Sam called out as the pain started to dissipate. All he could feel at the moment was that he didn't want her to walk away from him. He gripped her hand as tightly as he could. "No."

"Sam, if you're in pain," she started, but he cut her off.

"I'm not. It was just a passing thing," he told her. She looked at him skeptically. "I promise," he added. "I'll tell you if anything's wrong okay?"

She nodded, lowering the railing on the bed so she could lean against the small space next to him. She pressed the button on his pain drip, and then sat, running her fingers through his hair with her right hand. They stayed quiet for a moment, Sam working on taking even breaths, and Mercedes watching him closely, holding his hand with her left hand a little too tight as she did so. He could practically feel the fear vibrating off of her.

He wanted to hold her, reassure her, but he felt like he was slipping away. He knew the medicine would take him away from her any moment, so he tried to say with his words what he couldn't show her.

"I love you," he said, his voice laden with drug-induced sleep. "Remember that—even if I'm not here to tell you all the time. I'll love you forever."

"Why are you talking like that?" Mercedes asked. He could hear the tears in her voice. "Of course you'll be here. You're going to be here for all of it," she insisted. "The wedding, the house, the baby—all of it. You don't get to just leave me here."

He hadn't meant it that way, but the storm had already been unleashed and all of the emotions she'd been keeping at bay seemed to be rushing out of her now.

"I've had a lot of time to think that last several days and here's the thing," she said, her voice shaking with tears. Sam struggled to keep his eyes open and listen despite the medicine coursing through him at a rapid rate. If he didn't listen now, she'd just squirrel it all away again. "I don't work without you—not the same way," she told him. "Maybe there was a chance before we did all of this together, but not now, baby. It's too late."

She looked at him and it broke his heart to see the tears seeping out of her eyes unheeded.

"I'm at work, and I find myself just thinking about you sometimes—like what you would think about something, what you would say. Or I'm telling someone about something you said. Or I'm having a moment where shit is just hard and I know I can call you—or that I'm coming home to you, or you're coming home to me—and it just makes that moment not so bad anymore." She was rambling now, but every moment of it was the honest truth. Her fears were bursting forth for him to see. Plain and simple, she was afraid she'd lose him.

"You're with me all the time—all the fucking time. It doesn't just stop when I walk away from you. It's in my thoughts, in my heart, in everything that I am and have been for the last six years. It's too late for you to go anywhere. My heart already needs you to keep beating. It'll stop working right without you."

She was full on sobbing by the time she uttered the last word and lowered herself closer to him, snuggling into his least damaged side.

The room was silent after that, the only sounds being her tears and their mingled breaths—and the ever present beeping of all the machines. He didn't even realize he was crying until he felt her hands on his face, wiping the tears away from his heavy-lidded eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to—."

He silences her with his words. "Don't apologize," he mumbles, his words starting to run together. He was struggling to stay awake, but he was losing that battle. He felt another twinge of pain and whimpered a bit uncomfortably, but it felt far away as the medicine started to shut him down in earnest.

"I love you," he said in his last moment of consciousness.

Mercedes sobbed as she watched his eyes close. She'd wanted to tell him about everything right then, but it hadn't been the right time. The pain drip already started to claim him. He probably wouldn't have even remembered it, or been able to respond properly if she'd blurted it out then.

She sat up and sighed, turning so she faced the doorway while Sam slept behind her. She needed to calm down. She'd gotten really upset just then and getting so worked up wasn't good for her or the baby.

She resolved to walk down to the cafeteria for a bit where she could get something to drink, maybe call Tina, before she came back up and sat with Sam for the night.

It seemed to do the trick and she was breathing easier by the time she walked back up with a sandwich and a drink from the shop downstairs. She was going to just eat her meal and watch a movie on her iPad while she waited for Sam to wake up again.

All of those thoughts fled from her mind, however, as she stepped off the elevator and immediately took in the commotion on the floor. The machines in one of the rooms in Sam's hall were beeping wildly and all Mercedes could see was a flurry of doctors and nurses rushing in.

She walked quickly; her heart was pounding as she went toward Sam's door, praying with every heavy step, that what she thought was happening was just a mistake.

Her fears were confirmed as she stepped up to his door only to be pushed back out by one of the nurses crowded inside the room—the nice one from her first night at the hospital.

"What happened?" Mercedes said struggling against the woman, tears already streaming down her face. "I was just here! What happened to him?"

Before the nurse could even answer, Mercedes noticed one subtle change in the usual beeps she usually heard from the room—the ones she took comfort in as they beat in time with his heart. All the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she took in this beep—it wasn't a beep at all, but one long steady sound, indicating the beat had stopped.

"Oh my God," she screamed, and then she was gasping to take in a proper breath as the nurse guided her shaking body into a seat.

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><p><strong>AN**: I'm evil, I know it. You can yell at me in the review box just below.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Ed Sheeran had a lot to do with this. I hope you enjoy. I hope you don't hate me. I promise the next update won't take over two months. Um..yeah. Read.

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><p>Mercedes came to with the soft sounds of Tina's humming. She had no recollection of her friend's arrival, but was grateful for Tina's strong hold and the beautiful melody she weaved. She wasn't familiar with the song, but each crisp note soothed her, almost allowing her to forget all that wasn't right. Almost.<p>

She could tell she was no longer sitting in the chair just outside of Sam's room. That much was clear from her lying position and the lack of activity in the space around her. A prickle of panic threatened to burst her precarious bubble of peace at the thought of Sam, but she tamped it down. Not yet.

Once she opened her eyes, she knew she'd have to deal with a reality she wasn't prepared for. The warmth she'd found in Tina's arms would give way to a cold dark room with stark walls. This temporary peace she'd found would be over.

So, she didn't open them. Instead, she burrowed further into the warm cocoon she'd made of her friend's arms, tucking her face away, as she felt Tina's fingers running through her hair.

"_Sam, could you put the stuffing into the turkey while I get the pies out of the oven," Mercedes called from the kitchen. Sam had been engrossed in the football game on TV, but he figured delaying would only yield bad results. _

_Mercedes had been a wreck all morning, running around the house to get everything ready. She was usually never this antsy, but something about the parentals descending upon their humble abode drove his girlfriend to her limit. Suddenly, he needed to pick up his clothes, his shoes, his video games, his comic books—anything even a touch out of order was driving her insane. She'd even been outside fussing with the fall decorations until Sam had lured her inside with the promise of hot chocolate and a few moments to cuddle as they watched the parade._

_All his attempts to keep her calm had proven fruitless after that, however, as she just unraveled more and more with every passing second. It was the first Thanksgiving that both of their families would attend in her and Sam's new home and she was more than a little nervous, wanting everything to be perfect. _

_Though their parents supported their relationship and their decision to live together—it'd been an eventuality since high school, really—Mercedes knew they still had their concerns, like any parent did. They worried how their kids were eating and sleeping, how they paid for things. They worried about their safety. They worried—period._

_She didn't really have to prove anything to them, but she wanted them to see and be proud of the home that she and Sam had made for themselves here—to show them there was nothing to worry about. This wasn't just two loved up kids shacking up and hoping for the best. They had a home. They'd made it together. They were family. All the rest fell into place from there._

"_You're doing it wrong," Mercedes exclaimed with a squeal as she watched Sam load a scoop of stuffing into their Thanksgiving turkey's neck. "That's not where it goes!" _

_Sam lifted his eyes to her face and shot her an adorably confused expression as he continued to jab at the poor turkey with a spoon. He'd had no clue what he was doing and just decided to wing it. Clearly, that hadn't been the best plan. She was laughing, though, and not stressed out for a minute. Sam figured it was worth it._

"_It goes on the other side," Mercedes said taking the spoon from him and showing him what to do. "Just scoop it in there." Sam stood by, watching intently as she worked, before he took over and copied her actions. She stood by with a soft smile watching him._

"_Poor guy," Sam decided after a moment. "As if getting cooked wasn't enough, he has to get his butt stuffed with seasoned bread."_

_Mercedes snorted at that. "And his neck, too, if we'd left it up to you."_

"_Look, you told me to put the stuffing in the turkey. That's just what I did," Sam defended, but he could tell she wasn't even listening as she fussed with the garnish on the tray in front of them._

_He moved and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, settling his face into the crook of her neck. She smelled of the spices she'd been cooking with all morning and Sam found himself running his nose along her jaw. _

_It'd already been a full year since she'd made his life and decided to move in with him, and still, he couldn't get over how good this all felt. This life he had with her was everything he'd ever wanted—the good, the bad, all of it. Fighting over their messy living room (it drove Mercedes crazy when he'd leave his shoes lying around), compromising on which cereal brands to buy, to who would get back out of bed to turn off the hall light they'd left on—it was perfect._

_Waking up to her on any day was a gift, but on days like this, it was something truly special and he couldn't get over how happy he was. He wanted this forever._

"_Our parents will be here within the hour. I need to get ready," she told him, not really struggling against his hold. She let him keep her in his grasp even as she went on making little adjustments to the trays of food in front of her."I need a shower. I'm not dressed. I'm a hot mess," she said blowing out a breath. The action caused the strands that had come loose from her messy bun to flutter around her temples._

"_This look doesn't say hot mess to me, baby," he informed her. "This look says you put it down in the kitchen. Very sexy," he assured her. "My belly's about to be so happy. I'm very thankful for that."_

_She nearly jumped when she felt his lips and tongue on her neck, clearly not being privy to the thoughts that'd been running through his head. "No," she said effectively pushing him away, putting an entire food-laden kitchen island between them for good measure. She knew where those kinds of kisses would lead and the put out look in Sam's eyes told her he did, too. _

"_I still have a million things to get done. We don't have time for all that," Mercedes told him, gesturing her hand in a circle in front of him. Sam begged to differ and the look in his eyes said as much. There was always time for all that, but their families were due pretty soon. He decided to let it go for the moment. The last thing this holiday needed was the awkwardness that would surely come if they got caught having sex. No one would be thankful for that. Sam could only imagine the tyranny that would become Mr. Jones' expression. That alone was enough to deter him._

"_The house looks perfect, baby," Sam informed her. "Not a couch cushion out of place, not a shoe in sight, not a DVD out of alphabetical order," he teased, remembering things she'd chastised him for when she'd been running around earlier. She could chuckle at herself right then and did._

"_Ass," she muttered even as she came back around the kitchen island and stepped into his arms."I just want them to like it," she said, allowing herself a moment's rest for the first time that afternoon._

"_Trust me, they will," Sam started, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "Everything looks awesome and homey. I think they'll be proud. I'm proud of you," Sam said looking around the kitchen. Mercedes had done the bulk of the decorating, but every space in the house managed to be a perfect blend of both their personalities. The Star Wars themed serving spoons and trays included within the meal they were about to serve spoke volumes to that end._

"_They're probably going to taste that food and be too full and content to even look at the house," he continued and Mercedes laughed lightly at that, squeezing him tightly. "It's going to be good," he said softly, placing a gentle kiss on her hair. _

_Once again, his eyes roamed the kitchen, taking in the space around them as if for the first time. He couldn't help but pull her in a little closer as he said, "We did it." His tone was a bit awestruck and Mercedes lifted her eyes to his. She found him already staring back._

_Raising her thumb to his chin, she traced the skin there softly before shifting her hand to bring his lips down to hers for a kiss._

_He stared at her for a long moment when they came up for air, his face a literal canvas of emotions. Mercedes was almost startled when he finally did speak. "In case I don't get to tell you later, I'm thankful for you. I'm thankful for us—for the rest of our lives."_

_Mercedes giggled at that. "We haven't even lived the rest of our lives. Isn't that a bit premature?" she asked him, playing with the collar on his t-shirt. Her big doe eyes held an adoring smile as she looked at him._

"_Doesn't matter," Sam said blithely. "I already have high hopes."_

"_Based on what?" Mercedes prodded, near beaming at him now._

"_Based on the fact that you'll be with me," Sam said sincerely. He chuckled when she shook her head and ducked to avoid the intensity of his expression._

"_Was that a proposal?" she asked quietly, still not looking up at him. Instead, she opted to play with the material of his t-shirt, trailing her finger lightly over it._

"_I don't know. Would you be interested in one?" he asked coyly and her eyes snapped to his. She was smiling but the emotion in her eyes was as serious as it got. Considering where they stood as this conversation went on, Sam was pretty sure he already knew the answer. A breathtaking kiss was the only answer he got, however, before she was rushing off to get ready._

"Mercedes you have to eat something." It was Tina's voice, whispering softly into her ear. The humming had stopped, but she still lay in her best friend's arms, refusing to open her eyes. Mercedes shook her head. If she could just keep them closed—keep thinking about Sam—then she wouldn't have to wake up and live through this nightmare.

She felt the bed dip behind her, but before she could wonder who it was, Kurt soft voice filled her ear. "You've been asleep all night and most of the morning with those sedatives they gave you last night," he warned. His fingers wrapped around her shoulder as he pressed himself into her back. "You have to eat. This isn't good for you or the baby."

She wanted to say she didn't care, but she couldn't. Her hand immediately grazed over her stomach at Kurt's words, and she finally let her eyes flutter open—accepting that the bubble was well and truly burst. She didn't attempt to sit up, only shifting onto her back as she looked around the room—not her own. Outside was a sunny, yet still bitter cold New York day. She'd grown to love them when she made her move, but they couldn't hold her attention now.

Her gaze moved back inside to the cold white ceilings and walls in the room—not at all the warm, inviting colors of her home. Her body reacted physically to this, making her shiver as she took in the bleakness of the space around her. She was eternally grateful that Kurt and Tina were there with her, especially so, when Kurt ran his hand over her shoulder at her tremble.

As his hand moved over the material of her gown, she finally switched her gaze to it to take it in. The hospital attire was familiar—the same Sam had been wearing since he'd been admitted. Mercedes' hand pulled at the material for a brief moment before she just looked between her two friends.

_Tina was infinitely glad Kurt had been with her when they'd gotten the call from the hospital. He'd been the one to hold her upright, and to drive to the hospital while her body went through the physical shock of processing the news Mercedes sobbed at her through the phone._

_Mercedes had been a mess, barely able to get any words out, but Tina had heard loud and clear as her friend sobbed out, "He's dead," over and over. Tina had heard nothing but cries and commotion after that—machines beeping, people yelling, and one steady, calm voice that Tina didn't know telling Mercedes to calm down and keep praying._

_She'd been a mess of rambling as she tried to communicate what had happened with Mike on the way. Even then she'd managed to keep some semblance of composure. It had all gone out of the window as she walked into the hospital only to find Sam's room vacated, a mess of machines left in the wake and no sign of Mercedes anywhere. _

_Kurt had been the one to keep it together for the both of them. He walked them to the front desk and calmly asked for information about both Sam and Mercedes. The nurse refused to give them any information and Kurt was about to cause a scene when another nurse appeared, recognizing them as Mercedes' friends._

"_She didn't take everything too well…understandably," the nurse said as she led them down to the emergency room unit where Mercedes was being held. Tina had fallen into a mess of tears seeing the total devastation on her friend's face. The skin around her eyes was puffy and blotched with tears. Her expression was fitful, making it clear that this rest was not her choice._

_The nurse explained to them how Mercedes hadn't responded to any of the breathing techniques they'd tried to calm her down. "She just kept getting more agitated after she spoke to you," she informed them. She'd already been shaking and trembling as the nurse tried to calm her down. They'd had no choice but to give her a sedative when she'd started to gasp for air, claiming her heart was going to beat right out of her chest, shortly before she threw up in the hallway._

"_The doctors decided to admit her just for observation—because of the baby," the nurse said. "She should be fine. She just needs to sleep off the effects. She's on some fluids now, but once she wakes up, she has to be sure to eat and take her prenatal vitamins," the nurse told them. "Her doctor will be here in about 45 minutes for his hourly round if you want to wait. Poor thing. It's a lot to go through."_

_It was a relief to both Kurt and Tina to hear, but now the big question remained._

"_And Sam?"_

Mercedes didn't even wait for her discharge papers as Kurt and Tina finished talking. She was up in a flash, thankful they'd left her street clothes nearby. She changed into them immediately, tears streaming down her face throughout the entire process.

"'Cedes, I don't think this is a good idea," Kurt warned, but she was already passed the point of hearing and listening.

She walked right out of the room, grateful when Kurt and Tina came along. Grabbing onto each of their hands, she marched toward the unit where they were keeping Sam. The bubble was well and truly burst now, it was time to deal with the reality she'd been putting off.

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><p><strong>AN:** I already know I'm going to get yelled at. Please don't hate me. I really do love y'all. **Review? *runs away***


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Wow. I mean, wow. Your responses were inspired. LOL. I expected yelling, but damn y'all. Someone called me Ryan Murphy. LOL. Anyway, I hope you like this bit and it will soothe some of the hurt. I really do love y'all and thank you for reading, no matter what reaction it inspires.**

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><p>Mercedes approached him with trepidation. As determined as she'd been moments ago with Kurt and Tina's hands to hold, she felt a bit helpless and uncertain as she moved toward him alone now, as her friends had been asked to stay back. Her feet propelled her forward, almost of their own accord, and her apprehension grew with every heavy step.<p>

Crossing the short distance from the door was all too brief a journey. Soon, she found herself face to face with him, no longer able to put off the inevitable. He laid there, his features almost translucent, giving his skin a slightly bluish hue, and Mercedes couldn't stop the tears from building in her eyes.

He'd been through so much in such a short time and it wasn't fair. Reaching out a gentle hand to the cool skin of his cheek, she played Kurt and Tina's words over in her head, releasing a shuddering breath as she studied his pale features.

"_And Sam?"_

_Tina's question hung, pregnant with emotion, in the tense air._

_Sam and Mercedes. They were an entity, a phenomenal unit that just fit and worked with one another. They functioned with each other in a way that made it seem fated—like destiny—for them to be together. Neither Tina nor Kurt was prepared to consider alternatives._

_They both watched the nurse intently as she cleared her throat, looking back to Mercedes' figure on the bed, before turning to them and speaking again._

"_You didn't hear it from me," the nurse started. "I'm not supposed to know. This job, we're not supposed to get attached, but I got invested with these two—watching them day in and out."_

_Tina nodded and Kurt swallowed thickly, waiting for the answer._

"_He's a fighter," she told them, tears filling her eyes. "They were able to bring him back in the room. His heart started beating again after two minutes. Nearly three," the nurse informed them with a soft, watery smile._

_Tina made a strangled noise reaching for Kurt before burying her face in his neck. The two softly cried their relief, clinging to each other, as the nurse continued. "I checked his file in the database earlier. They discovered some internal bleeding—probably a hemorrhaged vessel that hadn't shown in the initial operations. They rushed him straight to the OR to fix it. She'd already been sedated by the time any of it happened—but, her state of panic was understandable under the circumstances."_

"_Is he okay?" Kurt asked. He'd pulled away from Tina while the nurse was speaking and now stood with his hand to his heart. "I mean, do you know? Is he going to be alright?"_

"_It's not my place to say. You should probably speak to his doctors—but, off the record, I've been checking all day. His vitals have been improving. He's still in recovery right now just in case something pops up, but they've already put in a request for a room in the ICU unit. That's positive," she assured them, looking back to Mercedes and adjusting the pillow under the worn woman's head. "She'll have a better reality to wake up to than when she went to sleep, that's for sure. I'm pulling for them."_

_With that, she made to leave the room, shooting Tina and Kurt another smile as she left. "I have to get back. Break's over," she told them and then she was gone, leaving the two friends to console each other and make some calls._

Mercedes' breath hitched, effectively putting her thoughts on hold, as Sam's face moved into her touch, his eyes fluttering open at the contact from her warm hand. It was more than she could take. "Oh my God," she said, relieved, as more tears spilled over. She blew out a breath and immediately lowered herself toward him, hugging him as tightly as she could while she sobbed out her relief into his neck.

She hadn't believed it when Tina and Kurt had spoken the words, her memories focused on that horrible moment when she'd been certain she'd lost him. She could still hear that flatline echoing, but that terrible sound that'd been haunting her grew fainter and fainter with every new steady beat of Sam's heart monitor. He was alive!

It was a while before she could pull away again. She'd have been content to lie with him there, listening to the beat of his heart for the rest of her life, but his voice grabbed her attention and she moved to look at his face, her wonder and relief still battling for dominance on her countenance.

"Where were you?" His voice was small and weak from disuse, but every word settled like balm on Mercedes' heart. "I looked for you after…" After he died? After he was revived? After his surgery? His statement trailed and Mercedes didn't ask him to clarify. It wasn't important. They'd found each other now.

"I thought I lost you," Mercedes replied—the simple truth—as her tears continued to spill over. She laid her head back over his heart, listening to its steady beat.

"I'm right here," Sam answered as a matter of fact, brushing his fingers soothingly against her back, as if that covered everything. Mercedes let out a watery giggle at the answer. Maybe it did cover everything. It was certainly the most important.

"Yes, you are," she said on a sigh, turning her face to kiss him just over his heart, before settling against him again.

"_Sam, put me down. You're causing a scene," Mercedes said in a hushed tone as an undaunted Sam twirled her around the airport terminal—indeed causing a scene, as passengers and the people waiting on them looked on._

"_You're here," he said, moments later when he finally set her down again. "Aw, baby, you're **really** here." He resembled a sugared up kid in a candy store, but the tears building in his eyes definitely took it up a notch._

"_I'm here. I promised I would be," Mercedes softly replied with a smile, shaking her head at him, before reaching up to dry his tears with her thumb. "Hi."_

"_Hi." His smile was ridiculous and Mercedes would have laughed, but he'd chosen that precise moment to lower his lips onto hers, kissing the breath out of her, and probably causing a bigger scene than before._

_It was a moment before they both moved, Mercedes leading the action. She'd taken about two steps toward baggage claim before he stopped her again, swooping in and wrapping his arms around her middle from behind her._

"_Baby, the goal is to __**leave**__ this airport __**tonight**__," she informed him, even as she giggled at his antics._

"_I know," he informed her before kissing her cheek. "I can't help it. I haven't seen you in a month. And it's still kind of blowing my mind that you're here to stay," he told her. "You're going to have to bear with me for the next few weeks." Or months—he'd added silently to himself._

_He'd let her go a moment later, compromising with just holding her hand as they walked to get her bags, but as soon as they stood in place by the conveyor belt, waiting for the bags to roll out, he was back to work, kissing her neck, her cheek, her hair—even her lips for the brief moments she'd allow it. She had no interest in being __**that**__ couple, no matter how long she hadn't seen him._

_She had to physically stop his body roll at the sight of her copious luggage. She stilled his hips with her hands and refocused his attention with a plea for help before the bags went back to the other side._

"_I don't know what you're so happy about," she told him as they loaded the bags into the car a little bit later. "I just had to pay like an entire paycheck to that airline to travel with all of this stuff." Her dad just had to be away at a dental conference this week so he couldn't drive her over. Her mother couldn't be trusted on local roads, let alone interstate highways and Mercedes wasn't much better. She would still get all of her stuff when her parents shipped it in the coming weeks, but she couldn't leave without the essentials—four large suitcases of them. A diva never knew what she'd need, and this was New York. She couldn't be caught out in any old thing. Kurt would have a fit._

_Sam put the last of the bags in the trunk then led her over to her side, opening the door so she could get in. He couldn't stop himself from giving her one last peck on the lips before closing the door and jogging over to his side. He grabbed her hand over the console as soon as they were moving, running his thumb over her knuckles as he merged into the traffic for the main exit. _

"_Every time you came to visit, you always had these little weekend bags," Sam explained."I don't know, they always made me sad."_

"_Why?" Mercedes asked with a giggle. "You didn't like them?"_

"_It wasn't like appearance or anything. I don't know about that stuff anyway. It's just, they were always a reminder that you weren't stayin' long. Like, I had you, but it was temporary," he said. His hand squeezed hers a little tighter._

_Mercedes only smiled as she squeezed back. "But not this time," she said after a moment._

"_Nope," Sam said loudly, almost startling her with his cheer. "This time you have four big ol' bags and I don't even care that I'm going to have to carry them up three flights of steps to our apartment. You're right here and you're going to be right here every time I look over for a long time. I'm just fucking happy, baby. Finally!"_

_With that outburst, he pulled up to a red light and grabbed her for a kiss—which she ruined because she couldn't stop laughing. He was such a fool_—and she fucking loved him.__

_That night she lay next to him staring at the ceiling, her thoughts refusing to quiet enough for sleep. Sam had succumbed a while before, his giddiness and a few rounds of amazing sex with his girlfriend draining him of all his energy. She listened to the sounds of cars, sirens, people talking—all the signature noise of the new city she'd chosen to call home._

_This was the very beginning of the life she'd chosen to build with Sam. She should have been nervous, should have been shaking in her boots at the prospect of making it away from home for the first time—but she wasn't. She was excited, set on making each new memory, and convinced that'd she'd be okay—safe, loved, and happy—because he'd be right there._

"Back to the ICU," Mercedes said with a smile shortly after Sam was transferred into his new bed. It'd been a few days since his last operation and they'd finally deemed him well enough to be moved.

"How do you feel?" She brushed her fingers across his forehead as he looked at her. She bit her lip to quell her tears at the sight of the pinkish tint returning to his lips. Even the color in his cheeks was rosier today—that familiar ruddy tone returning.

"The amount of stuff they have me on," Sam started and Mercedes snorted. "I don't feel a thing."

"I guess that's good then," she told him, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

"It is good," he said with a laugh, reaching for her hand.

It was quiet for a moment after that, the two of them simply looking at each other as their thoughts swirled through their heads. Sam idly played with her fingers and Mercedes lowered the railing on the bed, leaning herself into the space on his least damaged side.

"I can't wait to get out of here," Sam said on a sigh. They both knew his recovery period would be a long journey, but his doctors' positive words had allowed many new seedlings of hope to sprout.

Mercedes only smiled at his words, looking down at their joined hands. She couldn't wait either.

"Honestly," Sam said tugging on her fingers to bring her attention to his face. "I'm wasting time in here. We could be home right now, cuddling—making babies," he said—though clearly no baby making would be happening for a long time in his condition. _A boy could dream, _Sam thought. _Oh, the irony_, Mercedes thought.

A flash of emotion flitted through Mercedes' eyes at his words. Sam had been watching her intently and immediately perked at the sight of it.

"What?" he asked her and Mercedes took a deep breath, staring hard at his features for a moment, before looking away again—battling with her thoughts. Was now the time? He'd just been transferred back to his room. Could he take it?

"Talk to me. What's up?" Sam said, growing alarmed at the sight of tears in her eyes again. The emotion in his eyes was intent as he stared at her and his grip grew firm and insistent on her hand—_strong_. He'd been fighting for his life all this time. Telling him something this life-changing would affect him in a big way.

"Babe—?" he asked, still calling for her attention.

Looking back up at him, Mercedes made a decision. This would give him something else to fight for.

"There's something I need to tell you," she said and took in another deep breath as he nodded.

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><p><strong>AN: Still mad? Please review! I would LOVE to hear from you.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I had posted another version earlier than took it down to tweak it. Sorry for any inconvenience. I think I was just so wanting to finally get it out there that I didn't pay attention to some stuff until it was already up. I'm more satisfied with it now, and hopefully you will think so, too. I hope it was worth the wait, y'all.**

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><p>"I'm pregnant."<p>

She said it watching him intently for a reaction and he watched her tears building up just behind wide eyes that roved his face. She tried to muster a smile, but it fell short, transitioning quickly into an anxious grimace the longer he went without answering. Sam could tell by the way she pursed her lips to stop their quivering, and took in little shallow breaths through her nose, that she was nervous beyond words, and likely to shatter into jagged sobs at any moment. The death grip she had on his hand was also pretty telling.

It should have been as simple as reassuring her—as simple as a happy grin, a tear-filled hug, and a prayer of praise that it was all finally happening, but Sam was astounded by how discomfited he actually felt. His mind reeled, and he looked to her with eyes that mirrored her anxiety as he tried to settle on the proper emotion. Every short, panicked breath she took cut him like a knife, but he didn't know how to reassure her.

Mere moments ago, he'd had some focus—a goal to work toward. He'd get through his recovery, leave the hospital, and then get back to his life. But this—it changed everything. This wouldn't wait. This was here and now. She needed him to be a man—_his child needed a father_—and he couldn't even feed himself or go to the bathroom on his own. He was useless to them. All the hope and optimism he'd been feeling in the moments before dissolved into feelings of fear and anger the more he thought about it.

There were moments Sam had imagined his entire life—ones he'd never really admit to out loud, even if asked, but he'd definitely thought about them during the course of his twenty-some years. Things like what he'd grow up to be—every kid thought about that—and he was no exception. Where he'd ultimately end up had constantly run through his mind. He'd had his heart set on a Bruce Wayne-ish existence when he was young—and now still, if he was being honest.

He'd also thought about other things, like who his one great love would be—and how he would go about convincing whoever she was to spend the rest of her life with a dork like him. He'd _definitely_ thought about his future kids—who they'd be, how he'd spoil them, and teach them everything he knew. He'd envisioned a house full of oddballs, running around doing impressions, singing and playing instruments, swimming in synchronization, and having sci-fi marathons with him.

These thoughts had started out shapeless and vague, mere questions and dreams in his boyhood, but they'd slowly developed as he did—never clearer than when Mercedes had come into his life. She'd swept in so unexpectedly, but she'd stolen his heart, and become all the answers he needed.

From then on, the moments he saw hadn't been just his, but theirs together. With her, he'd pictured it all—a million different scenarios of the perfect little life they'd build. He had a different one for every day of the year, but they all culminated in all his dreams come true—because having her by his side was already above and beyond all that he wished for himself.

For all of his preparedness, however, he'd never imagined _this_ moment as it'd shaped up—lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his next breath, as the love of his life shared what should have been wonderful news with him.

"_I'm pregnant_."

The two words played on a loop as a flurry of emotions swirled within him, each of them battling for dominance. He was happy—he _wanted_ to be so happy, but he couldn't deny the dark anger and fear that bubbled inside of him that this was happening _right now_.

He wanted this, he'd prayed for it, and it came at a time when he was utterly incapable. He couldn't be the man he wanted to be for her—hold her hand through the doctor visits, coach her through breathing exercises in LaMaze class, or create crazy concoctions in the kitchen for her because she was craving ice cream and pickles or something.

She'd be the one taking care of him, he knew her well enough to know that. She hadn't left his side for more than a few hours at a time as it was. Could he really ask her to lug herself in and out of the hospital, day in and day out? This was no experience for any pregnant woman, let alone a first time mother. She deserved so much better.

He couldn't be the father he'd always imagined he'd be for his child—not like this, and it killed him. Would he ever be able to hoist his kid on his shoulders during an outing like he always thought he would? Would he be able to play a guitar for them? Would he even be able to hold them or be there when his little boy or girl was born? What if something else went wrong? Would he even get to see Mercedes' belly swell with life?

The thoughts had his breath hitching out in short bursts, the hope he'd had in the moments before overshadowed by all of these sudden doubts. It felt like a sick joke to get everything he wanted when he was precariously gripping on to life as he knew it—when at any given moment, it could all be snatched away from him.

He couldn't hold them back when the frustrated—_scared_—tears decided to come and, for the first time since his accident, he gave in, letting the sobs wrack through his body. He felt guilty when Mercedes' arms wrapped themselves around him as best they could—this moment was far from what she deserved from him—but he was grateful just the same. Her presence calmed the panic that threatened to break him, eventually stilling his scared sobs. He sighed brokenly, whispering, "I'm sorry," and turned his face into the soft skin of her neck, desperately needing her comfort.

_Sam shut the door quietly behind him as he walked into the house. His sigh was sadly resigned as he looked around the dark, silent space. He knew Mercedes was home, she'd texted him as much a while before. "_**_I got my period. I'm going home early." _**_The text had read simply, but it wasn't simple at all. Sam had found himself battling an unexpected disappointment, reading the words over and over, and he knew she felt it ten times worse. The darkness currently enveloping their home was proof of that fact._

_They hadn't been trying for a baby. The time in their lives had actually been as hectic as it could get, with each of them settling into their new home and new demanding jobs. That all drove them crazy enough without adding a baby to the mix, but when Mercedes' period had been a few days late, the possibility hadn't been entirely unwelcome. In fact, the longer they had to sit with the thought, the more they'd warmed up to the idea of starting their own little family._

_Sam had been the one to run excitedly to the drugstore, coming back with four boxes of pregnancy tests. He'd only meant to get one, but in the store, faced with an aisle of different varieties, he'd gotten a bit carried away. He'd rushed back to the house, sheepishly handing her the bag, and blushed as she giggled at him._

_"Do you know how many different boxes there are, babe?" he'd asked her, sincerely stressed out over the situation. "I mean, they've got an entire aisle. They've got pregnancy tests and ovulation tests. Two weeks early, six days early. First response gold and then just plain old yellow. I mean…" he'd explained, shaking his head in pure bewilderment._

_"It's okay, Sam," she'd told him with a laugh. "I'm sure one of these will do the trick," she'd said with another giggle as she peered into the bags he'd bought. He'd blushed even harder when that giggle turned into a full out laugh as she pulled out the bottles of water and juice he'd bought her._

_She hadn't asked anything, but he'd still answered. "Well, I wasn't sure if you already needed to pee or how much you'd need so," he'd explained with a child-like sincerity that'd made Mercedes smile. He'd been nervous—just as nervous as she had been. It'd comforted her and amused her all the same._

_She'd perused the packs of pregnancy tests he'd bought, reading through all of the directions and all of the wonders they claimed to contain. They all seemed to work the exact same way. She'd shrugged, taking a sip of water, before picking one to start. Taking it out of the box, she'd turned to Sam who'd settled on the edge of the bathtub._

_They'd each stared at each other expectantly for a moment before Sam raised his hands in an encouraging gesture toward the toilet. "Go ahead. Do your peein' thing," he'd told her with a smile. "It's like I'm not even here."_

_Mercedes had nearly choked on the water she'd been drinking. "Except you are here. Staring at me." She'd stared at him incredulously for a second when he didn't move, gauging how serious he was before breaking out into a nervous giggle. "Baby, no," she said laughing._

_"What?" Sam asked genuinely confused._

_"Sam, I'm not just gonna pee with you sitting there," she said with a laugh bordered in between timid and amused._

_"Why?" Sam had asked immediately. Her laugh was contagious and brought an amused smile to his face._

_"Because…" she'd answered rolling her eyes at herself before ducking her blushing face away from his gaze._

_"Oh, come on," Sam had said rolling his eyes at her amusedly. "It's not like I haven't seen what's goin' on down there before. That's kind of why we're in this situation to begin with."_

_Mercedes had gasped at his words, but it wasn't like he wasn't telling the truth. Still, she whined. "Sam!"_

_"What?" he'd said, laughing at her. "Just pee," he'd added, gesturing again toward the toilet, as if guiding the way._

_At her pleading request, "Baby, please," he'd finally relented and started to make his way into the bedroom._

_"Okay," he'd said on a sigh, stopping in front of her. "Um, good luck," he said awkwardly. He meant to press a soft kiss to her lips after that, but she'd ruined it by laughing at his words._

_Instead, he'd pressed a gentle kiss to her temple and made his way out of the room. He'd made to sit outside the door after that, but she'd opened it and shooed him further away onto the bed, claiming she couldn't pee with him just sitting there listening either. He'd rolled his eyes, but complied, heading to the bed, making a show of sitting on it and putting his hands over his ears for good measure._

_He'd found himself simply lying there a while later, staring at the ceiling, thinking, and a few minutes after, she'd joined him. They'd laid side by side, not talking, though they both had a world of thoughts swirling through their minds. Their fingers clasped together, however, as they waited for whatever these results would bring about._

_The alarm on Mercedes' phone had gone off minutes later, but she'd made no immediate move. Instead, she'd turned to Sam, simply looking at him. She'd smiled when he moved to kiss her nose._

_"No matter what it says, baby, we're in this together," he'd whispered after a moment. She hadn't responded, but the squeeze of her hand around his was answer enough._

_It'd been a definite disappointment when they'd huddled back into the bathroom and read the negative results together. She'd let out a deep sigh as she kept looking at the line, then opted to take it again. With each negative result, they were surprised at how disappointed they felt, but they tried to keep a positive spirit about it. She'd merely smiled tightly at him as she cleaned up the boxes on the counter. "I guess that's that," she'd told him and then she'd made her way downstairs to put out all of the trash._

_Any attempt he'd made to talk about it after that, she'd stopped with what he'd known was a tight smile, simply saying, "It's okay," before changing the subject. Sam remembered holding her that night as they lay in bed. She hadn't cried, but he'd listened as she took periodic deep breaths, sighing out her exhales—something she only did when things were weighing on her heart._

_Still, they hadn't talked about it again until her text today. The second Sam had seen it, he took the afternoon off of work to go to her, knowing she needed him even though she hadn't outrightly said it._

_He didn't bother calling out her name like he usually did, already knowing where she'd be. He set down the things he'd brought home with him and quietly made his way to the bedroom._

_He wasn't surprised to find her lying in their bed when he got upstairs. She wasn't sleeping, but she said nothing as he made his way over to her and slipped in behind her. Wordlessly, he brought her into his embrace, putting his arm around her waist and cradling her face with the other. He watched as she took another deep breath and exhaled on a sigh as she simply looked at him. Her eyes were swimming, but she stubbornly held back her tears._

_"It wouldn't have been the best time anyway," Mercedes reasoned, taking a deep breath to stop her lips from shaking. He didn't have to ask what she was talking about. She'd obviously been lying there thinking about what could have been. Sam merely nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He swallowed back against the lump building in his throat. _

_"We're busy and a baby would have been difficult about now," Mercedes continued. More tears built in her eyes and she stared off away from him, taking in a shaky breath. He could feel her body starting to tremble in his arms as she lost her grip on her control._

_"Yeah," Sam said, nodding again. He pulled her into a tight hug against him. He wasn't at all surprised when her quiet sniffle turned into a sob, and only pulled her in closer, rubbing his hands over her back as she cried it out._

_Sam didn't know how long he lay there, simply listening to her cry. He shed a few tears of his own as he did, and silently wiped them away. She noticed the movement when he'd done it a couple of times, and lifted her hands to his face to wipe them away herself._

_"I'm sorry," she told him. "I'm being stupid."_

_"Don't apologize for how you feel, Mercedes," Sam told her. "Cry if you need to cry, okay? I get it and I'm here," he added, punctuating the statement with a kiss to her forehead._

_"I know it's crazy to be upset," she said quietly after a moment, "but I still wanted it. I didn't know how badly until the possibility came up." She'd finally admitted it and he joined her._

_"Me, too," he conceded and simply held onto her as they both cried. It was a while before they were able to stop, each of them having to put out the hope that had started to brim, and adjust to the fact that it wasn't happening just yet._

_Mercedes was the first to break the silence between them with a quiet giggle._

_"What?" Sam asked, shooting her a watery smile. The sheepish look she sent him at that told him whatever it was would be silly._

_"Nothing," she said on a sigh. "I was just thinking about a little tiny baby with your big ol' lips," she said punctuating the statement by pressing a finger to said lips._

_He poked her and she squirmed away from him. "It'd be lucky to have them," Sam said, confidently. "My lips. Your cute little nose," he said, touching a finger to her nose._

_"Your eyes," she said quietly._

_"No. Your eyes," Sam argued with a small smile. "All big and pretty." He punctuated the statement, brushing a fingertip over her eyelid._

_"The craziest curls," Mercedes told him and they both laughed at the thought._

_They'd gotten carried away from there, never having shared these dreams with one another before. Together, they dreamed up their perfect little family—a little boy and girl that they would teach everything. They'd wear lots of sneakers and colors and plaid. They'd sing and dance. Mercedes would teach them some vocal runs. Sam would teach them to body roll. They'd play guitar and put together some killer outfits. They'd be perfect and have two parents that loved them to death._

_They'd allowed themselves to dream it and it wasn't long before Sam was pledging his determination to make it happen. The mischievous smirk that spread across his face had Mercedes looking at him oddly._

_"What?" she asked, already knowing the next words out of his mouth would probably be out of line._

_"Nothing," Sam said innocently. "You don't need to cry anymore, though. I'm gonna take care of everything."_

_"Oh?" Mercedes asked him with a raised eyebrow._

_"Mhm," he informed her, pulling her closer. In a moment his lips and tongue had started an assault on her neck, coaxing a whimper out of her. He smiled when he heard it and told her, "I'll give you all the babies you want. We can start trying now," sending her into a fit of giggles._

_She pushed him away playfully, but her smile had definitely settled on her face—the weight that'd been sitting on her chest earlier starting to dissipate. She smiled fondly at him pulling him in for a soft kiss._

_"We'll try again," Sam told her earnestly and smiled when she nodded. "It's gonna be perfect. We're gonna have the perfect little family."_

"Sam?" Her voice broke under the weight of her own tears and Sam's guilt over the entire situation kept him from looking up at her. He knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to handle the pained look in her eyes and the knowledge that he was the one putting it there.

Mercedes sighed to keep from sobbing, her arms instinctively wrapping around him as he broke right before her. It'd been simple enough to say the words—to finally tell him, but the emotions expelled with them sat heavy on her chest as she watched Sam struggling with the news. She'd gotten caught up in his words just before. It'd been such a regular moment between them that it was easy to forget just how precarious everything actually was.

She had thought it was the right time to tell him, but she doubted that now. She'd just been so anxious to finally share with him what everyone knew. He was the one person she'd wanted to tell all along—the one person who really mattered. They were finally getting what they wanted. Mercedes hadn't really considered that the accident could have changed that.

Sam's expressions flitted across the full spectrum, but he said nothing as he simply looked at her—and each silent moment killed Mercedes inside, a heavy feeling of dread spreading through her.

She fought back tears as she held him. She wanted to prod. She wanted to compel him to say _something_, but she understood the weight of the words she'd just uttered and resolved to give him the time he needed, even if it felt like she couldn't breathe in the silence.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, brokenly and Mercedes swallowed against the growing lump in her throat. "I'm sorry," he repeated over and over until she broke with him.

"It's alright," she whispered in an effort to sooth, but the sob that came after it said otherwise. She hadn't believed herself even as she said it. Because it wasn't alright—and maybe it never would be again. She was beginning to see that now.

"It's alright," she whispered again weakly and winced when she felt him shake his head against her. She prepared herself for his words.

"No, it's not," Sam told her and she pulled back to look at him, her breath hitching as she took in the overwhelmed look on his face. "This is not..." He let himself trail off as he looked at her, the words not forthcoming, but Mercedes had already filled in the blanks, misreading this as confirmation of her fears. He wasn't happy. He didn't want this baby. Nothing was alright.

It had all gone to rubbish right along with that dinner she'd made that had spoiled right on the table. It'd been shredded with the balloons. Their perfect little family was an old dream—yet something else the accident had snatched away. It was as broken as the bones in Sam's body. Nothing was perfect.

Nothing was alright.

In that instant, Mercedes felt something inside of her break. She'd been holding it together in the face of everything since the accident, and it seemed every time she pulled herself back together, something else came up to sucker punch her.

She was tired now, though. She let go, the tears she'd been holding back spilling over. She felt the breath rush out of her on her next exhale, leaving her trembling. She nodded her head shakily and looked away from Sam. "It's fine, Sam. I understand," she said, not able to look at him anymore. "Mercedes, wait," Sam said in protest. They hadn't even talked about this. "What do you understand?" he asked in confusion, reaching for her hand.

She looked down, away from him and pushed back even further from him, wiping at rapidly falling tears before she crossed her arms over her chest. Sam reached harder, instantly recognizing the signs of her shutting down, but she wouldn't get near enough for him to touch her.

He let out a frustrated grunt as he tried again, wishing he could just sit up and draw her into him. They needed to talk this out.

"Mercedes," he started, breathing harshly. Even that bit of moment had taken all of his energy. "We need to talk—," he started, but she cut him off.

"It's fine," she assured him. "Okay? I get it. I shouldn't have said anything. It's not the right time for any of this."

Sam's face scrunched in confusion. "Of course, you should have—what are you talking about? We need to talk about this," he tried, but again she stopped him, shaking her head frantically, like she wasn't even listening to him.

"You're going through so much," she told him, more tears spilling over. She took in a panicked breath. "I shouldn't have—I don't—I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry," she told him. What followed was the broken sob Sam had been expecting all along. "I'm so sorry," she whispered again. "You don't need this right now," she told him and then she was headed for the door.

Sam gasped then groaned in frustration, staring after her. "Mercedes," he called, but she was already gone.

His gaze flicked back to the ceiling. "Fuck." The curse came out in a whimper and then he was crying again.

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><p><strong>AN: Lord, this poor girl. This poor man. The next update won't take months, promise. I officially have the time to work on it again. I hope you don't hate me over this chapter, though. Had to be done. I wanted to keep it authentic and I couldn't really see Sam being all 'Yes, a baby!' when he was all laid up in bed needing a world of people to take care of him. Like, he wants to be happy, but he has a world of issues hitting him all at once right now and it's messing with him. Unfortunately Mercedes is the one that has to get hurt while he reconciles those feelings with himself and poor girl has had it.**

**Anyway, please please please review? This story is so incredibly hard to write and every bit of feedback really helps to keep going. I think I would have given up long ago if not for y'all. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I don't even have any words to say for myself. It's literally been a year. I'm sorry. Please forgive any lingering errors, I did try to edit, but you know...**

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><p><em>Mercedes sighed out a tired breath as she walked through the front door and immediately kicked off her boots. It'd been a <em>long_ day at work filled with whiney students that made her want to scream and pull her hair out in angry clumps and she was more than over it by the time she'd made it home that evening. _

_It hadn't helped that she hadn't been able to keep anything down all day either. Her body seemed to revolt at the mere smell of food and—when she hadn't been dealing with the college level Rachel Berrys in her department thinking they could whine their way to the top in a cloud of privilege and self-entitlement—she'd been hunched over the ladies' room toilet emptying out the contents of her stomach and wondering what she'd done in a previous life to deserve this day. _

_Foregoing a trip to the kitchen for dinner—it seemed pointless if it was only going to come back up in a few minutes regardless—she headed straight up the stairs to her and Sam's bedroom, letting herself fall in a dejected heap onto the bed. She let out a miserable groan as she shuffled onto Sam's empty side and buried her face into his pillow. _

_After her horrid day, she'd only wanted some peace—a glass of wine, and maybe a cheesy movie she could laugh at. Some cuddles from her fiancé to make her forget about the idiots of the world would also have been just what the doctor ordered, but she couldn't even have _that_ today. _

_Sam was away on one of his work trips—a fact which definitely wasn't helping with the sour mood she was in. It'd been difficult enough letting him go earlier that morning, his impending absence hitting her harder than it usually did, and the day definitely hadn't made that any better. It was almost overwhelming how much she missed him. _

_She'd gotten texts from Tina and Kurt throughout the day, inviting her out around the city with them for the evening—dinner and drinks at some trendy spot or another—but she'd ended up excusing herself out of any plans, not really feeling like dressing up and hanging out without Sam that night. She hated acting like the clingy type with no life outside of her man, but she couldn't help it sometimes. _

_All the while he was working his way up into the role of pretty kickass fiancé, Sam had also wheedled his way into the role of her best friend—the one who watched bad television shows with her, never actually listening to any of it in favor of providing a running commentary on it the whole time to amuse each other, the one who went on junk food runs with her at 3am when the urge struck and she just had to have some peanut M&Ms, the one who sent her Ryan Gosling meme's via text when he knew she was in the middle of work meetings and couldn't laugh, the one who dissolved into laughter with her over the dumbest things that no one else would even understand. _

_He knew her inside and out, from the stuff that was out there for everyone to see to the most intimate, minute things that she'd never spoken aloud—or even noticed about herself. She couldn't help but miss that whenever he was away from her, especially on a night when she felt so out of sorts. _

_Sighing, she shifted on the bed to pull her phone out of her purse. The screen came to life when she pressed the home button, and a sad smile pulled at her lips as her and Sam's smiling faces came into view in the background picture. For a brief moment, she ran her thumb gently over Sam's face before she rolled her eyes at herself and locked the screen again. Sighing she buried her face once more into his pillow, keeping her eyes closed as she just breathed in and out._

What was this behavior?_ she thought. He'd literally only left that morning and she felt ridiculous for being so emotional about it. _

You have the whole house to yourself, Mercedes Jones_, she thought idly. Usually, she longed for those days. _

_She loved living with Sam, but his was a presence that could fill a room, she thought with a laugh. It'd definitely taken some compromise when she'd decided to make living with him a permanent arrangement. Finding ways to marry his dork to her diva in their little apartment had definitely been a trial at first. _

_Some things had been easy, like Sam gladly giving her majority of the closet space and most of the room on their bathroom counter. In return Mercedes had let him keep the set of framed vintage Avengers posters hanging on the wall above their bed—though nothing killed sexytimes faster than idly looking up to find the Captain proudly saluting you or Thor stoically keeping watch. _

_She'd made the mistake of telling Sam about her discomfort one night during sex when her eye had randomly caught the Hulk's angry eyes and their lovemaking had come to an abrupt end as Sam helplessly laughed for the entirety of the next fifteen minutes and Mercedes had extracted herself from his arms in a huff and disappeared into their bathroom. _

_He'd made sure to buy a lamp for the nightstand the next day that enabled them to turn off the main lights in the room, allowing them enough light to encase themselves and shroud his superheroes in darkness above them. He had, however, earned himself a side-eye or two for saluting the Captain or crying out "For Asgard!" many a night before he shut off the lights and pulled her close to him. _

_Other things, like his morning and evening routines, had been harder, proving to be a bit different than what Mercedes was used to. Sam, as it turned out, was kind of an all day person, always chipper and bursting with energy. Where Mercedes couldn't function correctly until somewhere around noon, and never without Starbucks first, Sam was usually up with the sun, singing country songs loudly in the shower and making a world of noise as he puttered around the room getting ready—oblivious to all the grunts and side-eyes thrown his way. His bedtime routine was more of the same, weaving over and under and sometimes completely into hers. Her makeup removal time was his brushing his teeth time. Her picking the next day's outfit time was his exercise all over the room time. Her make up removal time was his 'Oh were you busy? You mind if I distract you with a few kisses?' time. And naps were veritably outlawed when he was home as he always saw fit to get handsy if he was around her for any prolonged period of time. Reading and Lifetime were also out._

_Tonight, however, his absence provided a litany of options that were usually out of the question. She could sit and read quietly and he wouldn't be there to distract her by suddenly remembering something that happened ten years ago that he simply had to tell her right then. Or she could take a long, hot shower without him inviting himself under the spray, complaining about the temperature, then distract her from the task at hand all together. She could even get through a marathon of a few Game of Thrones episodes without his constant pausing to try out his impressions of all the characters on her._

_Literally, the gamut of opportunity lay before Mercedes for her choosing, but she was surprised to find, she only wanted him in that moment. After her shitty day, she'd passed up friends and a night out for the comforts of home, but even ensconced within the four walls, held within the four posts of their bed, that still wasn't complete without Sam. __Every bit of him, even the annoying shower songs at the crack of dawn, was a part of her now. __He was what made this a home for her, and the fact that, __in his absence, all she could do was curl up into his side of the bed and miss him drove that point home for her._

_Their connection had always been strong—even when they'd just started out in high school. They'd gotten teased endlessly, even then, for seemingly skipping the dating phase and heading straight to old married couple. They communicated constantly to the point where their friends placed bets on the longest times they could stay away from each other, which was never very long. All too soon, they'd text each other or tweet or call._

_The connection had only gotten stronger in the last couple of years with them living together. She'd been hesitant at first, despite Sam's eagerness for her to finally come to New York and his assurance that this was the right step for them. She'd been reluctant to take such a huge step that would change their relationship forever—but now, she couldn't imagine her life another way. The risk had been worth it tenfold. Waking up to him, falling asleep in his arms, and every bit of their lives in between intertwining—that was part of her now. She wouldn't have changed any of it for the world._

_Her phone buzzing to alert a text brought her out of her thoughts and she smiled at the sight of Sam's name on her screen. Immediately, she unlocked the screen and burst out laughing at the sight of a very sad Ryan Gosling declaring how sad he got when they couldn't watch Golden Girls together. Underneath it came Sam's words, "**but seriously...I MISS YOU.**"_

_Mercedes found herself dialing before she could think about it and it was only a ring and a half before Sam's voice filled the space on the other half. __"Hey, girl," he said jokingly by way of greeting, making Mercedes laugh. She could hear commotion around him, indicating that he was probably in the locker room before the team's game. Immediately Mercedes' smile faltered._

_"Hi," she answered quietly. "You're busy. I can call—."_

_Sam cut her off. "I'm busy talking to you."_

_"But—," she started only to get cut off again._

_"But nothing. It's fine, Mercedes," he said. "I wanted to check in anyway. Are you feeling any better? You had me worried this morning." Mercedes could hear the concern in his voice and her thoughts flashed momentarily to that morning before he'd left—her emotional tears at the prospect of him leaving and the way she'd practically clung to him._

_"Yeah," she lied aiming for breezy, not wanting to worry him, but he immediately shut that down saying her name sternly. She immediately recognized the no nonsense tone and could just see his face rearranging into an expression that said, "Don't lie to me."_

_When she only sighed in response, she could hear him moving away from the noise around him. It only took a moment and then all was quiet. Just the two of them and their softs breaths traveling through the sound waves._

_"Alright, baby. The truth this time," Sam finally said after a long moment._

_"It was just a hard day," Mercedes admitted softly. "I was just...out of it the whole day at work and not just body-wise. I don't know, but I just didn't feel like myself. My mood was all off and I spent the entire day throwing up."_

_Sam released a long breath and groaned down the line. "Fuck." It came in a gravelly mutter. "I knew I should have stayed home. This has been like a week of this now, babe. It's not passing. We should have gone to the doctor."_

_"Don't beat yourself up. You took good care of me," she told him, remembering all of his at home remedies. "I guess it's just more serious than we realized. I'll try and see if I can get an appointment this week. It's probably just a persistent...I don't know...stomach bug or something."_

_"You shouldn't be alone when you're sick like this," he insisted. "Maybe I should come home. If something happens in the house..."_

_"Don't. I'm fine, Sam. Really. I don't even feel that bad," Mercedes insisted. "I'll go to the doctor. I promise."_

_"Maybe Tina or Mike could come with you," he suggested._

_"I'll ask," Mercedes agreed._

_"Okay," he accepted in a low whisper. "I really do miss you," he said a moment later and Mercedes could hear the smile in his voice._

_"I miss you, too," Mercedes replied quietly, then scrunched her face up a moment later in thought. "Actually I think I really do need a doctor...for my head at least," she said nodding her head. "Because I even miss you singing Keith Urban at the top of your lungs in the shower...so something's obviously wrong," she said with a laugh._

_"Oh," Sam said, and by his tone, Mercedes anticipated whatever he said next would be ridiculous. He didn't disappoint. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"_

_Before she could even respond, he'd launched into an ear splitting chorus of Somebody Like You. She listened to the whole thing, laughing uncontrollably and all out crying of laughter when she heard a knock on the door in the room he was in. His assistant Nathan's voice came through the line a moment later asking if he was okay._

_"I'm good," Sam answered seriously and Nathan disappeared again._

_"Sam Evans," Mercedes sighed a moment later, trying to get her laughter under control._

_"And there's more where that came from," he informed her._

_"Oh, I'm sure. I've heard, actually," Mercedes teased and Sam merely chuckled. __"Well, I'll let you go," she said quietly after a moment._

_"Okay. I'll call you in the morning," he promised. "Try to eat and get some rest."_

_"Okay. I will," she said. Neither of them hung up and Sam laughed._

_"Goodnight, baby. I love you," Sam told her._

_"I love you, too," Mercedes responded. Moments later they finally ended the call and Mercedes realized she was smiling for the first time that day. And the next morning started off with that same smile when he called her at the crack of dawn to serenade her with her morning "shower" song._

Mercedes looked up from her seat in the hospital's chapel as someone slowly made their way down her pew. She flashed the only smile she could muster, which wasn't really a smile at all—more of a small grimace really—before looking back down at her hands—not really wanting the conversation she knew was coming. Her tired eyes felt sore from the crying and she brought a hand up to rub at the sensitive skin there.

She'd been sitting there so long she couldn't even tell how much time had passed, playing and replaying what had happened between her and Sam over and over in her mind. Her hopeful delivery of her news and the way his expression had crumbled through seven layers of devastation, before he'd finally uttered words that simply broke her spirit. _"I'm sorry." "No, it's not alright." "This is not..."_ They echoed over and over in Mercedes' mind, her own fears snaking in and filling what he hadn't said. "This is not...the time. This is not...what I want."

She choked back another sob at the thought. She felt like hell, and probably looked it, too. She hadn't eaten in hours and it'd been even longer since she'd slept. Her body tensed and she was powerless to stop another bout of tears as the person finally sat down, deposited a sandwich into her lap, saying nothing before snaking two strong arms around her in a fierce hug.

"We've all been looking all over for you." The voice was her father's and it held not an ounce of scolding, just concern. "You might want to go have a conversation with Sam at some point. He's been asking for you...pretty urgently."

Mercedes sniffled and swiped at her eyes before letting out a tired sigh. "I just needed to think," she said finally. "Daddy, I really don't wanna talk to anyone right now. Least of all Sam. I wouldn't even know what to say," she added and her face crumpled as he silently pulled her into his arms. She let herself sag into her father's familiar embrace.

"That's fine, sweetheart," her father said understandingly, rubbing a soothing hand down her back. "You don't have to say a word right now. I'll just hold you." And he did. Mercedes sagged further, gladly relinquishing the responsibility of holding herself up to someone else for a while, because she was really struggling to keep up at the moment.

Her father simply held her, rocking her back and forth, and humming softly as her sobs quieted into soft cries, then eventually settled tiredly into the occasional sniffle. Mercedes let her thoughts drift to simpler moments in the quiet—those times in grade school where she'd fallen and hurt herself or something, the tiniest injuries really, but she'd still freaked out and her father had held her just like this until she quieted. Never judging her, or telling her to be a big girl. Just holding on until she had the strength to do it on her own again. She'd taken comfort in knowing she could always go to him then, and it was no less comforting now, even if the circumstances were much heavier than a bruised knee.

He kept up his end of the deal not saying a word, but smiled a bit of a knowing smile when Mercedes sighed again and spoke up finally. "Thanks, daddy. I needed that."

"I've got you," he said sincerely. "Always, sweetheart. You know that."

He felt her nod against him and smiled, still not initiating any conversation. They sat in comfortable silence for a long moment, Mercedes' sniffles subsiding into deep, even breaths. Her father almost thought she'd fallen asleep—which wouldn't have been the worst thing, since she so _desperately_ needed it—but she spoke up again a moment later with words that made him frown.

"I don't think Sam wants the baby," she said in a barely audible whisper, as if hiding the words from herself. Her father felt her tense in his arms and she buried her face in his chest again, whimpering as another flood of tears wracked through her body.

Mr. Jones took a deep breath, squeezing her tighter and letting her ride out the wave before he spoke again. "Mercy," he said, lifting her face from his and holding it between his hands. His heart broke at the sight of her red, sleep deprived eyes. Her face, that was usually so warm and full of light, had lost of every trace joy. He swiped a thumb under her still tearing eyes. "What would make you think something like that? Did he say that?" he asked.

"He didn't have to _say_ it, dad," she told him, pulling her face away from his hands. She sat back up, wringing her hands in her lap. "I told him and he just said that he was sorry. That it wasn't okay."

"Mercedes," her father started, reaching for her hand. "Sam's going through a lot right now," he told her and sighed when she only nodded absently, still staring into the distance.

Mercedes didn't say anything for a moment, taking deep breaths as she thought. She let her thoughts drift back to herself, standing in their master bathroom holding the positive pregnancy test in her hands. How happy she'd been. Hopeful. Excited. That had literally only been a week ago, but now it might as well have been months and years. Nothing was the same and Sam was right. It wasn't okay.

"I know that," Mercedes said finally, eerily calm and her father looked at her suspiciously. "And I get it," she added quietly. "I-I just...he doesn't want it now. Not with all this. A baby is just the last thing he needs right now."

Her father took in her words with a concerned frown knotting his face and sat for a quiet moment before speaking up again. "I think you should talk to him again," her father advised. "Give him a chance to explain himself with a gathered mind before you go making any big decisions. It's a lot to take in for any man, at any time. I'd imagine that's especially so for Sam right now."

Again, she only stared off, and her father tugged on her hand. Idly, Mercedes mumbled to herself, not paying attention to him. "This is not how any of this was supposed to happen. It's just not the time."

"Okay," her father said, tugging harder on her hand this time. The action seemed to jolt some awareness back into her and she regarded him curiously. "Listen to me. I'm gonna talk to you and I need you to really be listening, Mercedes."

She stayed quiet, staring expectantly and Mr. Jones took this as a go ahead. "When I first met Sam Evans, I didn't like him, on instinct."

Mercedes shot her dad perturbed look, wondering why he'd suddenly go there. "What?" she asked aloud. "Dad..." She rolled her eyes and tried to turn away from him, but her father grabbed both of her hands, holding her there.

"I didn't like him," Mr. Jones repeated. "I'd enjoyed 17 years of peace with the only threat to your honor—," Mr. Jones continued and sighed when Mercedes cut him off again.

"My _honor_?" she asked, her button nose scrunched.

"Hush. I'm talking," he told her, ignoring her subsequent eye roll, before he continued. "The only threat to your honor was a Trey Songz tour coming through Ohio," he said and smiled when Mercedes snorted despite herself.

"Then suddenly, junior prom happens and my daughter who'd been moping around about even having to, _in her words_, 'go to this stupid thing'," Mr. Jones teased, making air quotes, and making Mercedes smile sheepishly, "is running around buying dresses, ransacking her mother's flower garden to make corsages, and cleaning her brother's closet clear out of clothes," he finished looking at her knowingly, and smiling when she ducked her gaze away from him. "Then after your competition in New York, you come home constantly smiling like you're in one of the local ads for my office, and this boy I was told is just my daughter's friend from glee starts showing up at my door with the rise of the sun every morning wearing some awfully familiar clothes. _Also_ smiling like he's in one of the local ads for my office."

Mercedes was smiling now thinking back.

"And I remember the two of y'all that summer. Joined at the hip, with Stevie and Stacey in tow wherever you went. Your mom and I used to call you The Newlyweds behind your back," he said with a laugh. "I never said anything because I didn't want to give you any ideas."

"We were 17," Mercedes supplied with a short laugh and her father shrugged.

"I wasn't taking any chances," he answered simply, ignoring yet another eye roll from his daughter. "Anyway, one day my daughter comes home bawling her eyes out. Naturally, I'm contemplating _all_ the ways I'm gonna enjoy pulling out that boy's molars, _without_ the numbing effects of anesthesia, when she tells me that he's moving away. And you didn't look too different then than you do right now, Mercedes. Devastated. Like everything was over. And he showed up the next day, saying his goodbyes to me and your mother, and he looked the same as you. I've never seen two people so miserable in all my life. He left and you wouldn't leave the house for weeks until that loud Berry girl came by with Kurt and Tina and forced you out. And you seemed fine after, but that smile wasn't the same. I could tell."

Mercedes looked down, away from him, wringing her hands again.

"Fast forward to the middle of senior year, and suddenly there's this boy again. The smiles fit for an ad campaign are back and this boy is sitting in my living room telling me that he came back, with no family, _no real idea_ of anything except that he wants to be with my daughter more than he wants anything else in all his life. I thought in my head, this is a whole lot of hullabaloo over puppy love and it's not going to end well. He's too young for something as big as this. He's gonna miss his family. He'll leave. And I told him as much, and he told me I was wrong...and he proved me wrong, Mercedes."

Mercedes was tearing up again now, and blew out a labored breath.

"The end of your senior year, when you decided not to move with him to New York, because you just weren't ready, I swear I've never seen a pout that surly. Your mother and I could hear you fighting about it all day, everyday for months. He was mad as hell when we took him to the airport right before school started. You were crying for days after and your mom and I thought, that's it. It's over, but not even two weekends passed and he was at the door again. Drove all the way from New York just to tell you he'd thought about and he understood that you just weren't ready, and that it didn't change anything for him. He wasn't going to let you go this time. He didn't like it, but you were worth waiting on. Worth the effort.

And you know what? I realized right then and there that maybe I did like this Sam Evans after all. Because no matter the difficulty, no matter the obstacle, no matter how much he struggled, he always put you first, Mercedes. Your relationship always came first. And loathe as I was to accept it back then—I thought you were just too young to go around planning your lives around a high school relationship—but you did the same for him. Considered him. Sacrificed for him. I'll be the first to admit I wasn't happy when you quit your courses in Ohio and moved to New York. I was waiting on that crash and burn, but the both of you proved me wrong," he finished earnestly, his steady gaze boring into his daughter's doubtful eyes.

"But this isn't just something as little as distance or moving in together, daddy," Mercedes countered, shaking her head and thinking of the massive heap of problems that had suddenly fallen onto her and Sam's shoulders—things that neither of them had imagined they'd ever have to deal with.

"No, but my point is it's still you and Sam. A lot of the time things between you two didn't go how they were supposed to and it always seemed like your timing was off, but you never let that stop you," her father answered. "And let me remind you, back when it _was_ just distance and moving in together, you didn't think of it so idly, sweetheart. It was like the end of your worlds. You _struggled_. It nearly broke the two of you, but you fought to stay together, to make things work, because you love each other. The only reason you say it's 'little' now is because you faced it together and won, came out stronger on the other side. And something tells me this won't be any different."

Mercedes stayed quiet for moment, mulling his words, searching his face for any signs faltering, but she only found conviction.

"How can you be so sure?" she finally asked, her words quiet as she lifted her hand to wipe at a few more tears that had sprung loose. She'd prided herself on the absolute faith she'd come to have in her relationship with Sam over the years, and she felt guilty for doubting it now.

"This isn't the first time life has thrown the both of you a curve ball," her father said simply. "But every time you've managed to come away from each one stronger as a couple. And this is bigger. This is your family. Your baby. Now, I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you that I think you should take your time to think about this with a clear head. Talk to Sam again..., hell talk to your mom, his mom, Tina...talk to everyone before you make any kind of decision."

"But what he said in there," Mercedes fretted, wringing her hands as she thought back to that moment. She wanted to believe that things could turn out all right, that they could make it through this. But what if this was beyond them?

Her dad huffed out a small laugh and Mercedes looked at him curiously as he did. "When your mom told me she was pregnant with your brother," he started with a small smile, "we were planning it, too, but I don't know. I just didn't know it'd be _right then_. I'd just started out with my practice and I was doing well, but she told me and I literally stood there for five minutes without saying anything. The reality of everything just hit me in that moment and I just froze," he told her. Mercedes looked to him, her face softening as she heard his story. Her dad had always been her hero. He'd seemed larger than life in some way, like nothing could ever scare him, but here he was telling her that wasn't true. "Started seeing my life flash. All the things I was going to have to take care of for my family. We needed to move out of our apartment. We needed a bigger car. I had to build a crib. I needed to start thinking about a college fund."

"While momma was still pregnant?" Mercedes said with a small, incredulous laugh.

"I didn't say my thoughts made sense, baby. Just that I was thinking them. Everything at once," he said quietly. "And we both know the kind of man Sam is," he added knowingly and Mercedes looked to him wide-eyed for a moment, considering, before she nodded in understanding. "He's probably thinking all sorts of things, too. Except for now he's not sure he can be the man he wants to be, do the things he needs to do."

Her father let that thought hang between them as Mercedes' thoughts fell back to the words that had crushed her before. _"I'm sorry." "No, it's not alright." "This is not..."_ but she was hearing them differently now—not through the lens of her own pain, but through his and heart broke all over again, finally understanding.

It wasn't that he didn't want their baby—of course he did—and Mercedes hated that she'd doubted it at all. Sam was doubting _himself_, doubting that he could still be the husband he thought she deserved, a good father to their child, and provide the life he'd constantly dreamed of and worked for for all of them.

It only took her a moment to mull that over, and the answer was yes. He could still be all of those things and she didn't doubt it for a second. Maybe it would be different than what they'd always imagined, but different didn't have to mean something bad. And knowing Sam Evans, knowing the man she'd chosen to spend her life with—the man who'd go out and get her the moon if he thought it might make her smile, then bring her stars and the damn sun if she wanted them—she knew it wouldn't be. He couldn't see that just yet, but she'd believe it enough for the both of them until he could.

Flashing her father the first genuine smile she'd had since her conversation with Sam, she thanked him softly, wrapping her arms around him in a fond embrace. "Thanks, daddy," she said before she stood up. Dejection had sent her reeling and weighed her down into the pew, but faith, hope, and love bolstered her right back up, propelling her out of the chapel. Back to Sam. Always back to Sam.

They'd make it. She had faith in that, in herself, but more than either of those, she had faith in Sam. Always.

* * *

><p>AN: If anyone is still reading this, know you have my undying love and gratitude and I'm so sorry I couldn't update this sooner or regularly. I won't even make a promise as to when another update will come. But I will say there's a good chunk of the next bit already written...as in I'm currently working on it. **I'd love to read your reviews if you choose to leave them for me. :)**


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